


from eden

by meliapis



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angel!Reader, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24212818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meliapis/pseuds/meliapis
Summary: Green eyes widened at the unparalleled sight just as sunlight slipped through the dreary morning. It illuminated the marrow of the abyss, enveloping the figure in an intense light that made his retinas ache.Of every possible entity or element to have left a such a tremendous depression behind, he never would’ve suspected it to be this.
Relationships: V (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went back and edited this a bit. More info scattered about as well as descriptions. Hope it's a better read!

**The Council’s chambers had always convened this certain chill since before she could remember.** It was malignant in nature and reflective of their own dispositions towards those they deemed unhallowed. 

She had thought the group an intimidating bunch in her youth, yet, after decades of being summoned to the court to be yawped at or catechized, that daunting fear had sifted through her inclination towards them. The only discomfort she found in relation to them now was their preference to be at the top of all things when they all knew perfectly well He was the king in charge. 

If only He’d take the time to remind them that Himself. 

There was a lack of appreciation when it came to the dimensions of the courtroom she was in, as well as the thrones that loomed over her, safekeeping the sovereigns and their arbitrary eyes. They altered her into the smallest insect—a spec of dust to be brushed off and forgotten. They were barren things, those eyes. They held no remorse for the wretched or pitiful. 

And now—currently falling under those categories due to her venture to the mortal world day prior—she would not be given any mercy.

The angel grimaced as blunt ends prodded at her upper back. Silver lances compelled her to move forward lest they dig into her [color] skin and draw blood. Considering what they’d be doing to her moments from now, she didn’t think a few stab wounds would be  _ too _ disconcerting. 

She hissed, casting a hollow glare over her shoulder as a sharp point retreated from her deltoid. 

Still hurt like hell, though. 

Once she stepped through the threshold, the doors slammed shut behind her, leaving her isolated to face the trial ahead alone. She wavered for a moment, the tinkling of chains echoing in her ears as a reminder of her contemporary predicament. Reminder: it wasn’t a good one if that much wasn’t obvious already. 

Lifting her shoulders was a bit problematic with the shackles, but the degradation was by far the worst thing there. After all, weight upon one’s wings was an unwelcome disgrace among her people. The appendages already came with their own avoirdupois, something every individual grew accustomed to from the moment they were bestowed. It was sickening to have them drag behind her as dead weight when they had been created for so much more. It was a spit on her image and dignity. 

The insult was marginalized as she left the entrance to chambers for suddenly the sacred voices of the Council were speaking. They formed a single, coherent timbre, her chosen title reverberating throughout the assembly. The syllables grated against her eardrums, every plume embedded in her skin shivering at their admonishment.

**“You have been summoned before the Council to answer for your malfeasance.”** An ominous pause begged the action to glance up at the assortment of veils, but she didn’t dare move a muscle.  **“Uphold your pennons and the onus for which you’ve brought upon yourself.”**

The feeling of rime eased up her bare feet as she ambled across the gelid floors. Her nerves grew with each step, her wings tautening in response. Even her feathered bodice tightened, trailing from the apogees of her breast to her midsection. It squeezed her waist until the edges of the avianesque skirt fluttered against the ground—the only pair of wings that would remain unchained, preserving her decorum in presence of such chilling eyes.

As she stood in the center of the room, she counted the heartbeats that tore through her chest. Three came and went before a wince pinched her shoulders together in preparation. Then, her pennons rose two by two until all four stretched wide, the drag of the chains pulling at her plumes and threatening to loosen quite a few with their tonnage. 

Even with years of discipline and a diligent schedule, her extended limbs quivered with the extra weight. She wouldn’t be able to stay in this position long. The Council was well aware of that.

**“Confess your sacrilege.”**

A sigh slipped from her nose, head still bowed and eyelids at half mast. She studied the iron cuffs linking her wrists and mulled over her next words carefully.

Her voice was quiet but held fever as she lifted her chin. 

“I saved the lives of a mortal.”

**“You cozened our most sacred artifact from the Cherubim!”** the Council blared. **“Do not dare to deceive us with this meager warrant!”**

“If you think I’m lying, you’ve already been deceived,” she continued, unfazed. Her eyes found one of the seven veils, ghastly in appearance and the color of rippling ivory. “I only stole the book to perform a healing spell—I was going to return it.”

**“One does not steal such an immense source of power to use it on a mere mortal.”**

She opened her mouth to argue but the Council kept on. 

**“You have committed high treason among the celestial body!”**

“I was only trying to help—” 

**“Lies!”**

She huffed at being cut off again, turning her head to the side. 

**“You are a larcenist and being such you have betrayed your lineage and our heavenly Father.”**

_ “I couldn’t just let him die!”  _

Her scream bounced off the towering walls. They broke against her form, splintering off into dying whispers filled with desperation. 

“You know  _ nothing _ of the human world or the suffering they’re put through! You shut your eyes and ignore what I see when I’m sent to aid the souls you  _ spit on _ !”

**“S i l e n c e .”**

The tremors in their conglomerate of voices brought her to her knees. Metal clashed against the floor as her wings dropped from their tensed state. She choked on a sigh of relief. 

**“The mortal for which you speak of is tainted to the very depths of their soul. Even their death would not atone for the countless lives they disposed of.”**

“He holds remorse for what he did.” 

It was a weak attempt at a defense, her vocal cords straining with the Council’s complete attention solely on her. 

“I can’t speak for the things he did in the past, but he still has  _ good _ in him. I saw to that.”

She knew after so much time studying his humanity that he was not entirely corrupt—that he could be saved. It was all the evidence she needed to do what she thought was right. 

“I couldn’t let him die, and I couldn’t let him return to his entirety and kill himself and his compassion in the process.”

**“It is a pointless endeavor now,”** they stated, vanquishing any last hope of coming out of this trial unscathed. **“The High Council has discussed and audited your crimes against the Divinity. Do you have any last words anterior to your verdict?”**

Did she? What else was there to say? She had made her decision then and she did not regret it now. She saved the man she’d known once long ago. She’d saved his humanity. 

The only thing she regretted was leaving the now grown urchin behind. She’d not live to protect him for the eternity He had blessed her with. 

Before she could bow her head and leave the Council to their ruling, the sound of the grand doors opening reverberated. A frantic “ _ wait _ !” was yelled. 

Surprised by the new voice, the supposed felon turned from her position on the ground. 

At the entrance to chambers lied a familiar face, the archangel’s wings held high as he stormed in.

“You mustn’t do this! She is but a child—”

**“She is a thief, Selaphiel.”**

“You have heard her reasoning! She only wished to save the mortal,” her guardian said, imploring as he rushed passed his kneeling sister. “She should not have defied our laws but you can not know if she would have left with the Book of Imperium.”

**“Having returned the artifact would not liberate her from the act of infiltrating the Garden of Eden. She debilitated the cherubim and read from our sacred texts for which no celestial, seraph-born or otherwise, may look upon.”**

“Please,” he begged, voice shaking, “do not have her killed. She is not a traitor to our Father. He consecrated her Himself—she is His blessing incarnate!”

There was silence as the crucial minds of the seven determined her fate. In that quietude, the seraph rose to her feet once more, still struggling with the weight of her sins. 

“Selaphiel,” she whispered.

Her guardian turned upon her with rage in his eyes and betrayal in his soul. 

“How could you do this? You’ve sacrificed everything you have worked so hard for!”

“It was my choice to make,” she replied, somber. “I knew the consequences. I couldn’t let him die.”

“That mortal knows nothing of you.  _ Nothing _ . You have done this all for naught,” he hissed. 

All she could do was apologize as no matter how many times she explained herself, no one would know any better. 

To them, it seemed like a mistake to do such a despicable deed. The mortal world was not theirs to influence or to come into contact with, but the cards had been dealt. Now, she could only play with the hand she had left.

**“This treason cannot be overlooked,”** said the Council, thus sealing her fate. 

Selaphiel lowered his head, expression anguished at the loss of a sibling. 

**“You have broken our most sacred law and for that, you mustn’t live among us.”**

She couldn’t struggle. There was nothing she could do when she was chained, and they had secured her powers the day of her crime. Fighting was futile but there were still so many things she needed to do before she died. It was anything but fair. 

_ Please, Father _ , she prayed.  _ Be with me in my final moments and with Nero for all his life.  _

**“However,”** the Council spoke, swiftly gaining both of the divinities’ gazes,  **“Selaphiel has spoken on your behalf so we shan’t dispose of you yet. Should the day come that you rid yourself of these sins, there shall be a chance yet to redeem yourself.”**

The doors behind her opened once more as the two guards that had directed her here entered. She grew tense as they came to stand on either side of her, blocking any potential of an escape.

**“Until then, you are banished from the Heavens.”**

Cold hands gripped her arms as the heavy foot falls of additional guards reached her ears. She was barely able to turn her head enough to look over her shoulder at the baleful silver of a blade that hung from the hip of an armored individual. 

**“Sever the relevant pennons.”**

_ “No!”  _ she wailed, instantly pushing and pulling against the restraints on her shoulders. Chains tangled as she beat her wings, panic-stricken as her feet braced against the cold floors to free herself. 

The guards forced her back onto her knees before the court and she screamed, thrashing with all her might. Selaphiel could only shut his eyes and turn away. 

_ “You can’t do this! Please!” _

Her eyes darted back and forth as rough fingers dug into her feathers, stretching the radii of all four wings. The laments continued as the cursed weapon rose. She called for Him and her brother—an imploring ululation that struck all hallowed souls within range of it. 

Then, feathers rained, shattering into stardust as a storm raged below.

_ The skies grieved at His behest and thunder smothered the screams of His child. For that was all He could do on this heart-rending day.  _

A phone rang atop a side table, blasting its speaker as the caller persisted. It rattled on and on, strident even with the roaring of Mother Nature outside the window to its right. 

Lightning flashed across the room as a groan echoed, a door creaking open as a dark form stomped across the floor. 

Mumbling under his breath, the man stole the phone from its perch. His voice rough with sleep as he growled, “Devil May Cry, what the hell do you want?”

Shrieks sounded from the other side of the call, a terrified woman explaining the problem that only a handful of demon hunters could take care of. She threw the location out before the line went dead and the man sighed, rubbing at his face.

“Can’t have one  _ fucking  _ night of peace.”

He threw the phone down as he turned. The clock on the wall read fifteen passed three. The sun would be up in a matter of hours. Just their luck.

“Nero?” a tired voice called from down the hall, feminine and brimming with worry. 

He scowled, infuriated that a stupid phone call had ruined her night’s rest. Kyrie needed all the sleep she could get with her job taking up so much of her time and energy. The orphanage would be a shit hole without her and she loved the place as much as he did, but damn if she didn’t overwork herself.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah! Work calls,” he said, starting out of the room. Thumps echoed as another door rushed open on his right. A mane of wild hair popped out, nearly scaring Nero half to death.

“Demons?” Nico asked, eyes wide before they squinted at his face, her teeth sticking out between her bemused sneer. 

Her partner-client was one big splotch without her glasses on her freckled nose.

He huffed at her eagerness, continuing passed her without a second glance. “What else?”

“Let’s get on it, then!” 

The door slammed as she dashed to get ready.

While the inventor broke her best record for slipping into her shorts and brushing her teeth, Nero proceeded to his room. Kyrie was approaching the doorway as he entered and he made a beeline for her, bare feet almost gliding over the hardwood floors in his haste to get her back to bed.

“It’s nasty out there right now,” she warned, nodding to the window where a heavy shower of rain fell. His hand slid over her shoulders, guiding her towards the mattress. “Can’t this wait, Nero?”

“Don’t think so.” 

He pecked her cheek in apology as he left her to sit, heading straight to the closet to pull on some decent clothes for the unexpected job assignment. 

The distant sound of what had to be Nico rummaging around in the basement had his fiancé wincing. No doubt V would be awake by now with his room being down there and all. 

Kyrie hated that they didn't have enough space on their floor for him but, with Nico staying in the guest room and the living room not providing much in the way of privacy, the garage seemed to be the best place for their newest group member. 

He hadn't complained about the setup, in fact he had been nothing but grateful since he'd arrived last week with the devil hunting duo.

Speaking of them, muffled but clear as day, the woman’s voice bled through the floor like a warcry from hell. 

“V get’cher punk ass up! It’s demon huntin’ time!” 

The squawk that came in response was quickly followed by a series of curses towards the weapon-maker. 

Griffon was indubitably awake now.

Kyrie smiled up at Nero as he stepped in front of her, ready for the day ahead with boots, jacket, gloves and all. He almost distracted her from the expletives being tossed around on the floor below, being so handsome. 

“They’re almost as bad as you,” she teased.

He shook his head, raising a hand to smooth her hair behind her ear. 

“Get back to bed,” he muttered, laying one last kiss on her hairline. “I’ll try to be here in time for breakfast.”

“Good, 'cause we’re having French toast.”

Nico’s shouted command for Nero to "hurry his ass up" had him growling under his breath.

“Be safe,” Kyrie bid, sliding back under the covers.

“I will.” 

With that, he left the bedroom, shutting the door right behind him so nothing else would disturb her slumber.

The garage door slid open as Nero reached the basement level. It was still dark out and the screech of warping metal only left an eerie atmosphere to grow. It didn’t help that this room held undesirable memories of blood and cold, hard fear. 

He shook it off, the once lost hand of his curling into a fist to prove those days were long gone. 

Starting around the front of the van, he climbed into the passenger seat, nodding to V who was already positioned on the couch behind him, looking about as dead he did days ago just without all the decaying flesh. 

“Mornin’.”

“Salutations,” he uttered, grogginess still clouding his eyes. The top half of his body leaned over his cane as both of his hands pressed into its crown. “And what is it we’re after at such a pleasant time of day if I may be so bold as to ask?”

“Got a call from someone that lives near the edge of Red Grave City. Apparently, somethin' crashed down and stirred up the demons we didn’t clean up after the Qliphoth fiasco.”

“Most intriguing,” he rumbled, lidded eyes lowering to the carpet flooring beneath his feet. “We may finally finish off those pesky few, then, who have persisted since the demise of Urizen.”

Nero huffed, head partially tilting back at the action. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

The men went silent as the driver’s door was wrenched open. Nico hopped in, all but buzzing with energy as she twisted the key in the ignition, thereby revving the engine. She threw a grin in their direction, spirit fierce even at such a dead hour. 

“Ready to rock’n roll?”

Nero frowned, glancing towards the back of the vehicle. “Where’s the farm animals?”

“I have subdued them for now,” V answered. “Griffon and Shadow shall join us once we’ve reached our determined location.”

Nico pulled out of the garage, swinging the car around before shifting gears. Everyone within rocked with the motion. 

“Let’s get this show on the road, then!” 

The engine roared as they sped down the street, apartments flying by as Nero quickly strapped himself in. He would never forget to buckle up after the first ride with the infamous Goldstein granddaughter. 

“Think we’ll find some good shit for my babies?”

“You mean gross shit,” Nero corrected through gritted teeth as she ran a stop sign. Apparently, basic traffic protocol was null and void at 3:26 in the morning.

Nico bristled, patting herself down for a cigarette. “Don’t see you complainin’ when you’re out there roughin’ up bastards with my models!”

“They’re fine until they start  _ breaking _ .” His shoulder slammed into his window as they took an abrupt left turn.

“Blame that on your reckless ass.”

Behind the arguing duo, V dozed quietly, somehow blocking out the heated conversation and the hazardous driving simultaneously. He supposed he had great practice when it came to the former, with Griffon and his constant squabbling and all that. The bird always had something to say, beak smart and twice as sharp.

During his light rest, V contemplated the current job at hand. What could have possibly crashed down to induce such a surge in demonic energy? Had they, perchance, neglected to execute another cardinal threat while having focused on the Qliphoth roots last? It had to be something of that nature or a new peril had arisen so soon after their last conflict. Only time would tell. 

From the looks of it, V would have an ample amount and, what with Nico’s wake-up call, a recess sounded more than splendid.

Nero’s voice broke through, heavily agitated in his demeanor. “Did you at least call Joel and ask for a ride on the ferry?”

“Aw, shit! I knew I was forgetin’ somethin’.”

V sighed. It was going to be a long morning, indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited for errors!

**“Well, it hasn’t changed much since last time,” Nero voiced, a grunt slipping from his lips as he stretched.** With both arms raised, he stared into the distance where the crumbling buildings lay in desperate need of repair, abandoned but not forgotten.

There was no telling how long it would be until Red Grave would be up and running again. The majority of the population had been wiped out at the hands of Urizen, and those who were lucky enough to have evacuated were too traumatized to return to their old life there. So, for now, it would linger as a haunted wasteland to those who were lost until every pest was taken care of.

Nero was sure everyone would return in their own time. The Devil May Cry crew would probably go unnoticed again despite their hard labor around the city, but at the end of the day, it was all about keeping the world safe like always. Fortunately, they were receiving enough credit to get by with the small business they had going. He was sure the cryptic apocalypse played a key role in that.

Sighing, Nero squinted up at the skyline just barely visible passed the amassing of grey clouds. The storm had dissipated a great deal since they left Fortuna, but it was still a bit overcast. Dawn would be upon them in another hour or so if his estimation was right and, hopefully, the day would have cleared up by then. The lack of sleep sucked, but it definitely beat brawling hell-crawlers in the dark.

As Nero twisted his spine to get his back into working order, there was a strange sound—something equivalent to shifting sand in the wind. V’s baritone voice trailed over it before he could make any sense of it.

“Scout ahead for us, won’t you?”

“‘Oh, of course, your majesty! Ain’t like I got nothing better to do like, I dunno, get some decent shut-eye?!”

Nero scowled at the irate tone he’d come to recognize. The chicken, as far as he could tell, only had two attitudes: annoyed or annoying. Either way, the devil hunter was never above thrashing him and leaving Nico to make something useful of his remains. Cracked bones and severed feet from demons made for some interesting gadgets.

“Quicker we get ‘er done, quicker you can get back to your nest, chickadee,” the very artisan said. 

Nero noticed her leaning out of his car window just to pick at the already frayed nerves of the familiar. Luckily for them, she was right about it being quick work. Whatever had just fallen from the sky that morning was making their jobs easier by concentrating all the rogues in one area, and with the people living nearby having fled at the first sight of danger, the hunters wouldn’t need to worry about any search and rescue missions. The only real problem at hand was what exactly was attracting all the trouble in the first place.

At her comment, the chicken was quick to swivel his head around to send a sharp glare Nico’s way. 

“Not one more word outta you, loudmouth, or it’ll be lightnin’ again  _ real  _ soon,” he riposted, wings beating against the pull of gravity as he left his perch, which just so happened to be V’s other companion, Shadow. “Doubt your hair could go any higher, but I’m willing to test it!”

“Get going. There may be another threat to the world, yet,” V warned, inflection keen as he shared a look with the avian demon.

“Alright, alright, I’m going! Happy?” Griffon flew farther with each breaststroke, his vexed words fading until, finally, no one could make any sense of him. They considered it a small blessing to such a horrible start in their day.

Nico settled back in the driver’s seat, saluting her partners in crime and silently wishing them well on the road ahead. After the handful of demons they had hit on the way here, there was no doubt there were more to come, so they parked it here at some tourist spot off the main road that had a great view of the dilapidated city. 

She was better off waiting there for their call should they need anything, though, odds were she was just going to catch up on her beauty sleep.

“Don’t you go forgettin’ my souvenirs now, ya hear?”

“Yeah,” Nero scoffed under his breath, repositioning his sword strap as he started forward, "not happening." 

V followed close behind him, Shadow keeping pace with the poet and his sandal-clad feet. They all kept to their own thoughts as they hopped the steel barrier off the side of the road, cutting through the foliage and heading down a steep slope into the tree line that bordered the outskirts of Red Grave City. Nero was quick to grow agitated with the trees, their low hanging branches snagging at his hair. His fingers itched to draw his sword and hack away at the plants surrounding them; however, a clearing showcased itself after a few more feet. The tree limbs would live to see another day.

The space the trio stumbled into seemed to be a hiking trail. It wound through what could’ve been a straight path to the city. Nero checked on V to make sure he wasn’t far behind—as he wasn’t exactly wearing the correct footwear for this outing—and was pleasantly surprised to find him right off his left shoulder.

“Hope you’re alright with walking the rest of the way,” he said, continuing on with their trek.

V merely hummed, footsteps quiet as he lifted the slender, handcrafted book in his possession. 

_ “And did those feet in ancient time, Walk upon these mountains green: And was the holy Lamb of God, On pleasant pastures seen,” _ he quoted off the top of his head, wondering to himself if a deity ever truly had laid foot here, or anywhere in reality.  **[1]**

Belief and blind faith were not his practices, by any means. Yet, after that strange occurrence barely half a fortnight ago, he began questioning his prolonged existence and just what was the cause of it. After all, some things were just too good to be true, or so the saying went.

“Am I supposed to know what that means? ‘Cause, spoiler alert here, I don’t,” Nero said, pulling him out of his subtle musing.

“I only mean to ask if something of consequence set foot here, or our destination for that matter,” V explained, thoughtful as he went on. “I have doubts that what we seek is of a divine nature, but, then again, demons are enthralled with power and are therefore drawn to it as such.”

Nero had no clue as to where the poet was going with this conversation, but instead of questioning it, he entertained the concept.

“You mean like that blood fruit from last time?”

“More of along the terms of Sparda’s sword.”

Nero blanched, slowing in his steps as V sauntered by with his overgrown cat on his tail. 

Shaking his head at his hesitation, the hunter jogged the next few steps to catch up with the cane-user. 

“You think whatever crashed here is a  _ weapon _ ?”

V said nothing as they left another outcrop of trees, walking the worn trail along a wide expanse that ascended down to another piece of the path below.

“I consider whatever it may be to hold great consequence.” This time he demurred, not meeting Nero’s curious gaze and, instead, lifted the end of his cane to draw the man’s attention elsewhere. “After all, it seems to have attracted quite the audience.”

A few miles or so away, a cluster of demons could be seen swarming a single area. The giant horde shifted, a living blemish on the terrain as it encompassed what appeared to be an extensive crater blown into the earth. Neither of the hunters could make out what exactly lied at the center of all the destruction, but from the looks of things, it didn't strike them as something beneficial to their cause.

Above the writhing mass of hell’s offspring, V pinpointed his familiar circling the devastation. In time, Griffon made his way back, catching sight of the trio as Nero waved an arm to help guide. 

Taking a dive from his advantage point, he swooped down with enough speed to blow the hair back from his master's face as he came to a screeching halt. V offered his arm as a resting place for the time being.

"See anything?" Nero asked, brusque as per usual.

"Not even a minute to catch my breath,  _ yeesh _ ," Griffon suspired, landing on the excessively inked arm. "Whatever crashed sure ain't big enough to make that crater. That, or it already skedaddled."

"I wouldn't be so sure," V said, eyes meticulously studying the horde. Shadow growled next to him, seemingly off-put by whatever was down there as their tail flicked back and forth.

"So there wasn't some hell raiser in the middle of that thing? You kidding me?" Nero droned, not buying the bird's explanation as he leveled him with a squinted gaze.

"Listen,  _ grandma _ , I can’t exactly get close enough to tell with all the empusa and shit down there!”

Both men began to zone out at his habitual complaining, finding no surprise in his lack of confrontation when his host wasn’t around to help. 

“'Sides, it was hard enough with a barrier surrounding the damn thing."

"Barrier?" They parroted, eyes now boring into the familiar with undivided attention. 

"What? You think I flew that high to get a good  _ bird's eye view _ of the concert?" He scoffed, turning his beak up at the company he kept. "Ha! Not likely."

V dissected the information they had so far, lips pursing as a grin slowly crept up from the depths of his inquiring mind. 

"Interesting. A shield meant to block out all demonic energy." His eyes flashed with a hunger for answers. "Must be something truly worth investigating, then."

Nero swore under his breath next to him. "If it's all demonic energy there's a chance I won't be able to get through."

"Yeah, no shit, Shirley."

He gritted his teeth, simper skin-tight as he swiveled his head to glare at the bird. 

"Y'know, I still haven't decided what would be better: grilled or deep-fried?"

Griffon's offended gasp was white noise to V as he began his trek down the grassy incline. A smooth wave of his arm had the pair of razor-sharp claws detaching. 

"You hearing this guy, V? I outta introduce him to the light show, then we'll see who's fried food!"

"Save it for the finale down there, chicken. We might need it," Nero advised, taking a massive leap to the next pathway down.

Their bickering went on for some time as the four made their way closer to the congestion of devils. A few stragglers greeted them once they hit flat land, indicating they were heading in the right direction. For the most part, it was only small ranking demons that were easily taken down with a swipe from Nero's Red Queen or Shadow's blades which, in turn, fell to V's cane to finish. 

Griffon remained above as a lookout and offered constructive criticism where he thought it was needed. Nero didn't appreciate the critiquing and sent the bird scattering with a sideswipe at one point, leaving him grousing to V repeatedly. 

The man was not one to mediate, but he reminded the bird that silence was a virtue and he'd do well to remember such lest he find himself skewered. 

Once the sounds of the hell manifestations reached their ears, the group paused to come up with some sort of strategy. 

While Nero wasn't a planning beforehand type of guy, he did agree with V that it was necessary with their current predicament. 

"If birdbrain here is right, it might take some time to breach that barrier."

"Time we may not have," V noted quietly, leaning against a tree as his eyes swept over the small army left over from Urizen’s rise to power. "Whatever lies within that shield is trying to protect itself, ergo in some way it could very well be sentient."

"If it's keeping demons out then maybe we have something on our side here."

Griffon huffed from above their heads, nesting in the tree V leaned against. 

"I wouldn't be too optimistic if I were you, frosty."

"We still need to figure out what it is," Nero hissed.

"I may be able to pass through." 

All eyes turned to V in shock. 

“Any demonic energy I have derives from my familiars, not myself,” he clarified, not paying a glimpse at their stunned expressions as he focused forward. 

Griffon snapped his split beak down at him in affront. "So you're just gonna leave us to do all the work on the outside while you face a  _ who-knows-what  _ on the inside? That don't sound too smart to me, V."

Nero blew out a breath, shaking his head. "Nico might get through, but I can't risk sending her into something dangerous without backup.”

"Oh, so you're just going to send him instead? He ain't so expendable, you know! He dies, so do the rest of us," Griffon pointed out, nodding to Shadow and himself. That included Nightmare who wasn’t there at that very moment, and an unheard of guest who remained in the rock for safekeeping.

Nero ignored the bird and turned to V, meeting his gaze with a severe outlook of his own. "Even if you could pass through, you don't have to go in there by yourself. We could take out all these little shits standing around first, then focus on the barrier. It's your call."

V was silent as he looked away, envisioning both plans and how each could go on to play out. They could work together to exterminate the immediate threat and risk allowing whatever crashed down to grow in strength, or he could go about this on his own and see what the source of this conflict was before anything else possibly occurred.

Alas, his curiosity had always been a strong foundation for his will.

"If I am able to pass through, I'll see what it is we are up against and do my best not to disturb it," V said, eyes clear as they met Nero's. "However, I might be in need of some assistance when it comes to reaching the barrier."

The fellow devil hunter nodded, smirking at his newest colleague's fortitude. "You got it."

"What? Are you serious, V?  _ We could die _ !" Griffon screeched in the lowest tone he could muster as the horde was mere yards away.

"Then I advise we endeavor out utmost to survive."

"Oh, you are  _ insane _ in the brain—both of you are! Why do I put up with this shit?"

Nero lead the way into battle, strolling along as he slid his sword from its sheath with slow movements. As he reached a good starting point, he perforated the ground with the honed tip of the Red Queen and cracked his neck from side to side. V came to stand on his right, the body of his cane in hand and expression as self-assured as his gait. 

Shadow dug their claws into the soil under their feet, hunching low in preparation for the attack with Griffon hovering above ready to send lightning across the field.

"Guess we're gonna have to get their attention," Nero chuckled, surprised that none of the pests had taken notice of them as of yet.

"So it would seem," V agreed, bowing his head as he raised his free hand. His emblemed middle finger slipped over its associated thumb just as Nero revved his sword. Then, all eyes were centered on them.

Nightmare barreled down into the hub of the swarm just as Nero jumped into the fray, concomitantly carving a passage through the deadly mix of empusa, caina, and judecca.

Cackling maniacally, Griffon joined in with frequent bursts of electric charges and left more than a handful singed and emitting sulfurous fumes. Meanwhile, Shadow watched V’s back as he plowed through his own demons, slashing and skipping ahead with deliberately aimed throws of his walking implement.

Arthropod corpses littered the ground as the five fought on, working well together as a team despite the minimal amount of time they’d spent together. Nightmare stayed put at the head of everyone, their scorching eye beam decimating row after row of hell crawlers. What they missed Nero took care of, slinging a few leftovers up towards Griffon to weaken considerably before ending them.

Shadow transferred V to Nightmare’s shoulders in their cloud form once they seemed to be approaching the edge of the barrier. Nero yelled up at him to get a move on, kicking an empusa down and leaving the panther to rip into it.

“Upsy-daisy!” Griffon respired, snagging V’s cane and lifting him away from the conflict. The giant kept any brave few from launching up at the duo as they glided towards the rim of the crater.

When they were only a few feet away, V felt his familiar falter with a choked grunt. 

“Don’t get yourself killed in here!” were his parting words before he came to a full stop, throwing his lower half forward.

Then, V was released into the unknown.

**[1]: William Blake’s Jerusalem lines 1-4, but I removed the word “England” as I’m not quite sure if it exists in the DMC universe. Don’t yell at me, please.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited for errors!

**V was airborne.** His natural, unpigmented hair drifted up as he did precisely the opposite. As he fell there was a sensation of something flowing past him, almost as if he had ruptured the calm surface of a body of water; it stole the very air from his lungs.

That feeling was quickly overlooked when the down-slope of the caldera-like pit met his feet and his right side soon after. It was anything but a graceful descent, though, he managed to reduce his speed, stabbing his cane into the dirt to stabilize himself. 

Gradually, he slid to a stop, permitting crumbles of loose soil to teem down from the sudden disturbance. The mess pushed a discontented sigh from the poet’s chest as he shook his hair out and rubbed any stray specks from his face. A shower would be in order after this mission was complete, that he was sure of.

Feeling no pain besides a few minor scrapes and bruises, he glanced up to see where he now resided in reference to the surface. He found he had rolled down quite a bit, a good twenty yards at least, yet he was no worse for wear.

Despite the violent plunge, he felt the silence was more daunting than anything else. Any sound from the brutal clash prior was heavily muffled by the barrier or so he assumed as there was no sign that it even existed. The world above was as clear as it had been outside of the crater, just soundless. 

V noticed dawn breaking through the grey accumulation of clouds. A symbol of something promising, perhaps? He wasn’t sure now that he was on his own—a strange concept in and of itself when he always had three demons at his beck and call. 

To be without his familiars was a susceptibility to the mind and body. The power that had flowed through them was absent from his veins and it showed on his exposed skin, pale and bare. He was a different person without them, a cleaner version yet weaker all the same. It was not something he particularly enjoyed.

Below him the world grew fairly darker, the slope he rested upon continuing down another ten or so yards until it ended with an additional drop. He could tell from where he stood that it sunk at least another ten feet, concealing the undiscovered.

Fortifying himself, the poet pushed himself up onto his feet and brushed off any remaining dust from his tumble. Slowly, he carried on with his journey, the soles of his shoes slipping against the dirt and leaving him to heed his balance. When growing closer to the ledge, he felt his heart beat strongly in his chest, his grip tightening on his only weapon as he closed in. 

He dared to lean over the precipice once he reached it and behold just what exactly had collided with the outlying districts of Red Grave City. His gaze roved the dent until it was enticed by an undisclosed brilliance at its core. 

His eyes widened at the unparalleled sight just as sunlight slipped through the dreary morning. It illuminated the marrow of the abyss, enveloping the figure in an intense light that made his very retinas ache.

Of every possible entity or element to have left a such a tremendous depression behind, he never would’ve suspected it to be this.

At first, it didn’t exactly occur to him what he was monitoring. His first deduction was the color: a pure, unadulterated white even without the sun shining on it. The subject was practically covered in it from head to toe, all except for a portion of what he observed to be a leg and a hand.

Of what little he saw, the hue of its skin was/wasn’t very different from the immaculate wings it possessed. He thought he saw a bit of hair creeping out from under one as well.

His lips parted, brow furrowing as he studied the phenomenon from afar. An assumption was stinging on the tip of his tongue, but he did not dare encourage the thought. In all his years of researching (in both another life and this one) he had only come across a morsel of knowledge on the creature that came to mind. 

He thought them to be a myth or of some other world that did not pertain to their own. Not once in his lowly past had they come into existence to challenge him or to stop his reckless feud for efficacy. And seeing as he did not believe in any specific god or higher power, it only made sense that he did not believe in the things related to one.

He had told Nero he would not disturb what lied beyond the shield and he would keep his word. The sight was enough to satisfy his starved curiosity for now. After all, if the creature had not stirred from him passing through its barrier, then he supposed there was time to waste before it awakened. He would retreat to assist the others with their current dilemma then return.

_ That is, if it wasn’t killed by the fall _ , he thought as he made his way back up the slope he’d stumbled down.

“Oh, you’re not dead! I was one heartbeat away from flatlining while you were in there!” Griffon yelled, circling overhead as V helped pick off the last of the disgusting vermin. Nero had done a sufficient job in taking care of them during his absence, and all his familiars seemed to be accounted for, which was a welcome sight.

“Out already?” the fellow (or at least until Nightmare returned to his body) white haired hunter called over whilst decapitating a hell caina. “Should I take that as a good sign?”

“It is safe to assume we may take care of these hellions before reckoning with our esteemed visitor,” V replied.

Nero raised a brow. “ _ ‘Esteemed _ ?’ We dealing with royalty or somethin’?”

“Of a sort.”

Griffon gave a nervous trill. “Wait, it’s  _ alive _ ? Oh, that definitely don’t sit well with me!”

“May I suggest we finish with the vermin here before discussing this?” Distractions could prove to be hazardous if their heads weren’t focused on the battlefield.

“Fine by me!” Nero shouted, careening off of Nightmare to gain some momentum. “Shouldn’t take long since the big guy and I are dealing some serious damage!”

“Talk about all brawn and no brains,  _ ha _ !”

A beam nearly grazed the bird for that unsavory comment.

“H-hey! Watch where you’re pointing that thing!”

“Guess us ‘brainless’ can’t aim straight when it comes to chickens,” Nero quipped after praising the pitch giant with an amused chuckle. Had its hands not consisted of spikes at the moment (and they weren’t in the middle of slaying demons) he wouldn’t have been opposed to a high five. Or maybe a fist bump as they really didn’t have fingers to begin with.

A short amount of time passed in the slaughtering of hell spawn. Teams of an accomplished few tended to do that, what with their impressive skill set and all. The quick killing spree did not leave them any less fatigued, though, and V feared that could be their downfall should the winged creature wake with a vengeful spirit.

“Well, it’s clear the shield’s still up,” Nero said, sword resting on his shoulder as he knocked on the invisible barrier. The sound that came in response was something akin to plucking a bass guitar but deeper and with a more abnormal echo.

V hummed, raising a hand only for it to pass through nothing but empty air. The lack of sleeves on his arms was the only proof that something was there. His skin revealed just where the barrier began as his faded tattoos—due to all three demons still being independent of him—ended abruptly past his wrist. There was also that feeling of rippling water again, as if he was disrupting something pacific.

Griffon audibly shuddered behind him, seated on Shadow who gave a similar reaction as well.

“Does my passing through the shield affect you all by chance?” V questioned, intrigued by their discomfort.

“S’like the only blanket being ripped off in the smack dab of winter,” Griffon described, his feathers ruffling each time the poet moved his arm further in. The bird moved up the cat’s spine to find a better spot to lounge as they lowered their bottom half to sit. “Couldn’t feel a thing from you when you went in.”

“Fascinating.” And it was to him, in every meaning of the word. He had never seen such strong protection against demonic energy.

Nero turned to him, expectant. “What did you see down there?”

A frown weighed on V’s expression as he answered, “I’d rather not make assumptions based on its appearance, but it seems I have no other choice.”

“You don’t know what it is?”

He tilted his head, appraising the sky as the last traces of the stormy weather dispersed. “I have a conjecture.”

“Oh, well that’s comforting,” Griffon huffed. He chose to disregard him.

“It is likely we are dealing with a servant of consecration or some correspondent of one.”

Nero’s features hardened into a look of confusion. “Meaning?”

“Meaning  _ hallelujah _ —we’ve been blessed by the presence of an angel,” Griffon groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. “What a fucking nightmare.” 

He craned his neck to look at his massive coeval as it stomped over to their ragtag team. 

“No offense.”

“You know of them?” V asked, surprised by the bird’s knowledge.

Griffin shrugged his wings in response. “Eh, not personally. They sort of split after the big separation between our species or so the story goes. Mostly keep to themselves, but I’ve heard of them popping up from time to time. About as rare as hens’ teeth.” 

He nodded to his master as he gave his opinion. “If you ask me, they’re not much for confrontation.”

“I didn’t think they existed,” Nero said.

“What part of ‘rare’ did you not get?”

“I tend to space out when you’re stupid bird jokes are involved.”

Before a heated argument could break out again, V turned back towards the unseen barrier. “Have any of you attempted to break through?”

At the inquiry, his colleague raised his weapon’s handle high, gesturing with a single, free hand and a confident mien. 

“Might want to take a couple steps back.”

Heeding the warning, three in the audience provided an ample amount of space between themselves and the bullheaded hunter. Nightmare saw no reason to move.

“Heh, fits the term ‘stubborn as a rock,’ don’t it?”

V gave a single, unimpressed look towards his chatty familiar. Griffon said nothing in his defense, ignoring the man to preen his bright feathers.

Nero rolled his shoulders and retreated from where he was positioned next to the shield. He took a moment to ready himself, inhaling a few quick breaths before speeding forward with the intention to destroy. A warrior cry left his lips as he brought the Red Queen down on the shield, and in a flash of bright white light, he was flat on his back with the trusty sword nowhere to be seen.

The wary trio searched for the blade before it came barreling down from the heavens, narrowly missing Shadow and Griffon as it sheathed into the ground with a sharp ring.

“Fucking hell!” The bird scattered into the air as the cat jumped away, the former landing on Nightmare who stood near the downed Nero. He snapped his beak furiously. “Nearly hit me! Hows about working on that grip, grandma? You fucking need it!”

A pained groan was all that came in response, followed shortly by a middle finger in the air. 

“The responsibility falls to me, then,” V surmised as he started for the edge of the crater once more. He’d be sure to keep upright on his second time down.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Griffon yelled, flying after the poet. “If the barrier’s strong enough to keep wonder boy out, what is the thing that made it capable of?!”

“Let us find out, shall we?”

The avian demon let out a howl of frustration as he came into contact with the shield, rebounding and nearly hitting the ground from shock. He was unable to follow his master as he made his way deeper into the destruction.

Shadow ended up pacing at the boundary, head low as they stalked back and forth. Nightmare waited, patient as its single eye turned to regard the swordsman as he sat up.

“What? Wanna give it a shot, tough guy?” he coughed out, raising an eyebrow in challenge as he rested his elbow on a bent knee.

The giant returned to staring ahead silently.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Below them, V had managed to find his way back to the second drop off without slipping. The supposed angel had yet to move from its position, body still sheltered by its wide pennons. While it would be easy to write it off as dead, there was no way it could have been with the protection surrounding it. What would be the use of guarding a lifeless corpse?

With a strong exhale through his nose, he dropped down the minor cliff side, scaling the length of it in seconds flat from the shifted soil. He caught himself with a few hurried steps forward and a swipe of his cane, then switched his focus to the prone figure. Still nothing, even after such noise. Had it been fatally wounded after all? Or could it have fallen into a coma? 

So many questions crowded his head as he sauntered closer, extending his silver tool to brush the hand that protruded from beneath ivory plumes.

_ Ah, _ he smirked in triumph when the faintest of twitches was seen from the digits, _ still in the world of the living, I see. _

Flipping the end of his cane into his palm, he prodded further with the handle, sliding under the curved wing with delicate movements. As V shifted the blinding appendage downward, he made out tendrils of hair against the ground, which could only lead to one thing.

Once revealed, the sunlight gleamed against her skin, inducing a softness to her features. Innocence was conveyed, her hair forming a halo amusingly enough. She had a human face and he had no doubt that the body hiding beneath her wings would follow the same anatomy. Had Griffon been there, he likely would have insisted that the poet check for “research purposes” or some other similar, ludicrous reason. But if V was anything, he was a gentleman. 

As long as the subject wasn’t out to kill him, that is.

He eased the engraved handle under the side of her face that rested against the dirt. As he raised her chin, her eyelashes fluttered and suddenly he was met with halved pools of [color]. He felt himself freeze as she did her best to zero in on him, eyelids continuously closing from exhaustion.

_ The crash must have done quite a number on her. _

Dazed as she was, she managed to move her wings closer to her body, wincing as they molded to her figure. A feathered ensemble replaced her cover, safeguarding her modesty as she made an attempt to lean up. Toilworn, she remained where she was, chest heaving from such minor movements. It was a pitiful scene, he had to admit. A bird with a broken wing or something of that nature.

Somewhere in the confinement of his chest, he felt the need to aid her, but he wondered if it was a common practice of her species—to draw such emotions from his kind. The act would have surely been believed had it been a stranger’s eye to behold her, but V knew masks better than the makers. For all he knew, she could be a siren luring him to his demise. She was certainly comely enough to do so. 

“There is no need to overexert yourself,” he said, crouching down as her eyes befell him for a second time. “I would be more than happy to assist, but you must do something for me in return.”

She said nothing in reply, though, her gaze seemed to grow irritated at his words. It was good to know she could understand him, at least. He took her quiet scowl as a sign to continue. 

“Would you care to lower that shield of yours?” He gestured over his shoulder with his cane. “Its become somewhat of a complication for me and my assemblage.”

Puzzlement clouded her features as she looked past him, studying something he could not see when he paid the direction a glance. Then, her eyes drifted shut again and a strong breeze swept through the crater, sending V’s hair tossing wildly about his head.

Glimpsing up, nothing changed around him as far as he could tell, that is, until Griffon came plummeting down from the skies. His aggravated tone went in one ear and out the other as V focused back on the woman. When he was faced with her gaze, its tenderness stole a heartbeat from him.

_ Now, why that look? _ Before he could question the sudden change in demeanor, her eyes rolled back and she fell unconscious once again, head lolling into its starting position.

A sigh left his lips as he returned to his feet. Not a threat, yet, at least, and still alive and breathing. It was the best he could have hoped for, all things considered.

Griffon whistled as hooked his talons into the little leather clothing covering V’s shoulder, reposing there without permission. The flap of wings disturbed his hair as they were tucked in, the long expanse of the bird’s neck twisting as he regarded the determined angel from all angles. 

“Definitely as beautiful as the storytellers make ‘em out to be.”

“Pleased by her plumage, are you?” V teased, turning at the muttered curses raining down from above. Nero was making his way to the center, albeit a bit clumsily with his sore muscles (and pride). 

“What can I say? I like my women  _ fly _ .”

Nero groaned as he arrived at the conversation, tossing a disgusted countenance towards Griffon as he stomped by. When standing before the angel, Nero paused and ultimately decided to sheathe his sword as she was in no state to battle.

With the protective wall gone, the familiar rush of Nightmare returning to V’s hair was felt, white fading dark at the roots until every strand was engulfed. Shadow, too, arrived at the focal point of the crater. Their cloud form was traded for their physical one, eyes scrutinizing the woman with heavy judgment. They sniffed at the ground surrounding her but made no move to get any closer than that. 

Nero turned to V. 

“She wake up?”

“For a moment, yes. She must have been weakened from the fall.”

“Did she seem dangerous?”

The poet thought back to her eyes, how jaded they had been upon awakening. But there had been something there, something he wasn’t sure of. It hadn’t felt threatening—none of her had from the get-go. It was only a matter of if that was a facade or not.

How cruel that victims were made to be convincing roles nowadays.

“She was not in any shape to attack me.”

“Did it feel like she would have if she’d had the chance?”

V searched Nero’s face, dark eyebrows furrowed at his oddly specific query. “No, I suppose not.”

“That’s all I need to know.” He grunted, getting down on his knees before hoisting the woman into his arms.

Griffon sputtered, tensing on the poet’s shoulder. “Don’t touch it! You don’t know where that’s been!”

“Somewhere better than you have, I bet.” Nero shuddered as he stood with the burden, eyes squinting as he stared at her face. A curious hum left his lips before he hefted her closer, managing to maneuver her head onto his shoulder as he ambled passed.

“What is it?” V asked, wary of the small exchange just then.

“Dunno. She’s kinda familiar. That and,” he huffed as he started up the incline, “it’s hard to hold her.”

“Careful there,” Griffon said. “Don’t wanna insult a girl’s weight—trust me on this.”

“She’s not heavy, bird brain, just uncomfortable. Feels like the breath is slowly being knocked outta me.”

“What did I say? Probably leeching off your life force or some shit.” The bird took off, leaving his master with windswept hair. Then again, the strong breeze from before had more than ruffled it already.

“Perhaps she is like the barrier in some way,” V inputted, mind growing more interrogative by the second as he ran a lithe hand through his tresses. 

Griffon snickered, awaiting them at the surface with languid strokes of his wings. “Makes since considering he was winded after being knocked clean on his ass.”

“Least I knew where I was aiming,” Nero snapped, his wounded ego flaring up at the mention. “You flew into that thing like a clean glass window.”

“An’ one of us hit the ground while the other didn’t. Wanna ask your shit-stained back who it was?”

The white haired hunter growled behind clenched teeth, right foot finally locating the stable ground of the surface. “V, your chicken’s  _ this close _ to roastin’ for dinner.”

The man’s lips curled in amusement as he found his way onto higher ground as well. It wasn’t a pleasant sight with all the bloodied carcasses lying about nor a pleasant smell, but the lack of slopes came as a relief to his labored lungs.

“Come now, Nero,” he said, inflection diverted, “you wouldn’t want to suffer from food poisoning, now would you?”

A chuckle slipped from his colleague whilst his familiar squawked indignantly. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited for errors!

**It just so happened that the devil hunting group was located at a public park just outside the city, or what was left of one, it seemed.** They hadn’t taken their surroundings into account until they picked out benches among the bodies as well as crushed sidewalk paths. What once was a family-friendly area was now the dead remains of a battlefield—somber enough for an elegy. Fitting with a poet there. 

A knocked over phone booth stood out with its bright red accents, leaving Nero to deposit their divine visitor on one of the benches. She was to be looked after by V while the hunter found his way into the busted booth. There was a good chance they would be able to get a hold of Nico as the wires were still intact. Unfortunately, they were also uprooted and the rainstorm earlier that morning might have caused them to short circuit. It was still worth a try. 

Nero stooped low and opened the door with little difficulty. He ignored the broken glass as it slammed to the ground, crawling in on his hands and knees. The phone was off its hook but he could make out the droning dial tone. Luck seemed to be on their side today. 

As he busied himself with punching in the number he had long since memorized, V watched from afar, wiping his cane free of demon blood and dirt. He glanced down at their sleeping addition to the party. Griffon was perched above her on the backrest of the long, wooden seat, amber eyes suspicious as he gawked at her glowing features. Shadow was just as keen, settled between the feathered woman and their master as his strongest protector currently. 

V couldn’t say he was surprised—demons and angels were two very different entities. All myths centered around them made out their species to be lifelong enemies. With how his familiars were acting, he was starting to believe they were exactly that. 

His thought process was disrupted by the loud honk of a car horn. He barely batted an eye as the homely van swept past, sending his leather coat flailing behind him like a warning flag at the coast. Their chauffeur could very well be a rogue wave with her overwhelming driving. 

Tire marks were left behind in Nico’s wake, carved into the wet ground and numerous corpses. The van nearly tipped when skidding to a stop, then the driver’s window slid down with a slow, squeaky groan. 

“You rang?” she hollered, eyes centered on Nero as he climbed out of the leveled booth. A hiss left his lips as he got to his feet, shaking a hand in front of him before eyeing it with an angry mien. 

“Fucking glass,” he muttered, wiping the blood off on his already disgusting jeans. 

Nico crooned teasingly at him before checking her surroundings with an excited gasp. “Lookit all the materials you left me!”

“Hey, pillage your shit later. We have somethin’ important here,” he barked, gesturing towards V and their add-on. 

Nico practically choked on her spit as she sprung from the van, door threatening to break off from her merciless foot as she kicked it open. She jogged the short distance between the vehicle and the bench, leaning over the woman’s unconscious figure with wide eyes. 

She glanced at Nero. “You pickin’ up girls again, deadweight?” 

“The fuck you mean ‘again’?” he scoffed before scowling at the nickname. “And don’t  _ call me that _ !”

“Sure is purdy thing, ain’t she?” she breathed, ignoring her partner’s growl of frustration as she inspected the bright feathers trailing from the top of the angel’s chest to her lower hips. After that they formed avian-inspired leggings, though, with further prodding, she determined it to be a sort of second skin. 

“She part chicken like you?” she asked Griffon. 

“Hardy fuckin’ har. You’re a real comedian.”

She cackled before turning to Nero as he sauntered up. “Seriously, what is she?”

“A fallen angel. That’s what we’re sticking to for now at least.” He shrugged before moving to pick the woman up. “Get the door for me, will ya?”

“Sure thing,” the lethal artisan agreed, strutting back towards the vehicle and scrounging a few demon extremities on the way there. She was quick to toss them in the back where her work space lied before holding the door open. 

Nero brought their guest inside, laying her on the faux leather couch with gentle movements while Nico found a blanket to cover her with in the meantime. No one could say that Devil May Cry workers weren’t more than hospital hosts when they needed to be. 

“Think this is a good idea?” 

Nero gave the brunette a look to be more specific. 

“You know what I mean—the whole angel-demon shebang and what not.”

“What? You sayin’ she won’t like us?” he joked, moving to the head of the vehicle to find his seat. 

“Just callin’ it like I see it,” she huffed, throwing her arms and following after him. “One half-devil, two humans, and three demon familiars are one helluva meet ‘n greet.”

Nero just shrugged again in response, leaning his car seat back and buckling his seat belt tight. He would try to get some shut eye during the ride, but with Nico’s driving it’d be more than likely a wasted effort. 

Griffon and Shadow entered the caravan with their master right behind them, sliding the door shut on his way in. He had barely reached his seat before the engine sputtered to life and they were off, speeding like a boss monster was on their tail. A glance at the comatose angel left him wondering if one was right next to him, instead. 

“We takin’ her to the house?” Nico asked, fumbling for a lighter on her person. 

“Nah, we don’t know what her motive is,” Nero said, eyes still shut as he lit a lighter and held it out. He leaned against his car door as Nico ignited her sickening habit, humming to indicate she had done so. He tossed the handheld tool into a cup holder, ringing it blindly as she rolled the windows down to fumigate. 

“Let’s head to Dante’s old place. Lady and Trish might know more about her.”

“Guess breakfast is off the table, then?”

He grunted in disappointment, having just remembered they’d be missing out on Kyrie’s famous French toast. He would need to make a quick call to inform her of their findings. 

Forget what he said earlier about luck—this was shaping up to be a shitty day. 

The brick building hadn’t changed since the last time Nero had been there and V, too, for that matter. The trademark neon sign was still flickering, showing someone was paying the bills around here even if Dante was currently stuck in hell after Urizen’s demise. 

Nero had no doubt he’d be seeing his—and he loathed to admit it— _ uncle _ , again. The man just refused to die.

As for the whole father situation, he refused to really let it sink in as half of him had been lost and the other half was standing right next to him as quiet as the day they’d first been introduced. 

It was easy to disregard the whole scenario as V never mentioned it and neither did the youngest Sparda descendant. Maybe one day they’d sit down and talk it out. For now, though, they were perfectly fine with remaining as workmates and housemates, too, in a strange turn of events. 

At their arrival, Nico was in charge of knocking since Nero did all the heavy lifting like normal. V kept to the back, silently judging the workplace as his two smaller familiars stood guard beside him. 

A moment passed before the door opened, showcasing Lady in all her glory. She scratched at the back of her head in a sleep haze, squinting at them before focusing on the unconscious form in Nero’s arms. 

A sigh billowed from her lips as her shoulders sagged. 

“It’s barely been a week and you show up on our doorstep,” she mused, turning to head back inside. “Funny how that works.”

“Trish here, too?” he asked, following her in. Had to fix his grip on the woman before moving sideways through the door

“Nah, she had errands to run for Morrison. Guessing it has to do with birdie girl?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Got a call from the urban area outside Red Grave. All the demons rounded up ‘cause of her.”

“We believe she is a fallen angel of sorts,” V articulated, going to a bookshelf near the back that held some volumes on demonology and the like. “You wouldn't happen to know of them would you?”

Although surprised by the reveal, the dark-haired woman shook her head with a calm exterior. 

“I specialize in demons,” she eyed the feathered woman warily, “not their contraries.”

Nero passed by, looking worn out more than usual. 

“What about Trish?” he breathed, groaning as he set his burden down on the only couch in the room. He blew out a sharp breath before repositioning her legs so that they wouldn’t slip off by accident. 

Behind him, Nico grinned to herself at his kindness; Kyrie would’ve been proud. 

“I’ll give Morrison a call and see if I can reach her,” replied Lady, meandering towards Dante’s desk for the phone placed there. “Just ordered some pizza, by the way. Should be here in a bit.”

“Lady, you’re a doll,” Nico stated, relief on her face as she picked at various junk around the work station. “Could eat a whole horse right about now.”

Nero scoffed, glaring towards the rim of the couch where Griffin had situated himself. “Sure you don’t mean chicken?”

V frowned as the bird’s emotions surged angrily within him, his sections of the markings twinging as he snapped a smart retort. 

Nico laughed quietly at their bickering, Nero lowering to the floor to rest his legs. The wall across from the couch wasn’t all that comfortable but it would do for now. 

V continued with flipping through the book collection as Lady spoke to Morrison, asking for her partner in crime. Once she seemed to get a hold of her, she offered the phone to whoever was willing to speak. With Nero tuckered out and Nico not up to date with the entire situation, V took it upon himself to communicate with the she-demon. He gave a succinct greeting. 

_ “Well, if it isn’t V. Or should I call you Ver—” _

“I’d rather you not, if you please,” he cut her off, leaning against the desk as Lady took the head chair, listening intently. He avoided her gaze, feeling pressured like an insect between two glass plates for microscopic inspection. “We’re in need of some information.”

_ “Depends on what it is.” _

“Nero and I have come into the possession of a fallen angel or something of a similar nature.” 

The line was silent save for the faint, electric buzz that echoed in the background. He prayed he didn’t have to repeat himself as it was getting old. 

“Do you know of them by chance?”

_ “Heard of ‘em,”  _ she grumbled. _ “You saying you just found one lying around?” _

“She made a shield for herself that only a human could penetrate. Apparently the fall weakened her a great amount as she hasn’t stirred since we moved her.”

_ “Huh, well, if I were you I’d take care of her while she’s down. Angels are as old as they are powerful. If she’s an archangel, shouldn’t be too tough of a job.” _

He hummed. “You’re saying there are higher forms?”

_ “I’ve only heard of three. You’ve got archangels, then Cherubs, then you’ve got Seraphs who you do not want to mess with if myths serve correctly.” _

His green eyes flickered to the unmoving figure on the couch, suspicious. “How would one know if a seraph was in their presence?”

_ “Dunno. How many eyes does she have?” _

“I would prefer if you’d take this seriously for the time being,” he muttered with a tight frown.

_ “Listen, I know you’re smart, V. You would know if she was a Seraph. If y’all want to wait for her to wake up and bring around the next apocalypse, then be my guest. I’m busy.”  _

With that, the line went dead. 

“Alright, so what are we gonna do with her?” Nico was the first to approach the topic after the pizza had been delivered and dished out evenly. “If Trish is right about her bein’ a pain in the ass, then best bet is to put ‘er down.”

“I don’t think she’s a threat,” Nero spoke up, voice gruff as he glanced at the woman. “Call it a gut feeling, but I feel like we’ve met before.”

“What? Don’t remember a girl with wings at any point in time?”

“It’s complicated—wouldn’t expect you to understand,” he growled towards her. 

“I am inclined to agree with a pacifist route,” V stated, frowning as Griffon made a mess of his share of food. He hadn’t felt like eating and the bird was the first to pounce on the greasy trap. “As fleeting as it was, we shared a mutual agreement. She lowered her shield when asked to do so and showed no signs of endangerment.”

“Well, she can’t stay here,” Lady said, entering the conversation with a stern tone. “Trish and I already have our hands full with Dante’s business. That, and I don’t think she would enjoy waking up to strangers.” She nodded to the angel half-heartedly, feet crossed atop the wooden desk. 

“We’re cramped as is,” Nero groaned, pushing off the wall he leaned against. “Kyrie’s all for ‘more the merrier,’ but we’ve gotta draw a line somewhere.”

“Hows about the orphanage?”

Three pairs of eyes bored into the Goldstein daughter as Nero uttered, “The  _ fuck _ ? No!”

She pursed her lips into a tight frown as her arms crossed defiantly. “C’mon, if you don’t think she’s dangerous then why the hell not?”

“Because it’s a shitty idea, that’s why!”

They were practically on opposite sides of the room, yipping back at one another like neighboring dogs. V felt a headache coming on and brought a hand up to rub his temple, eyes escaping to the left for a moment to check on their guest before doing a double take.

When she had turned onto her side, he knew not, but her eyes swept over their small numbers. She still looked exhausted and perhaps pained if her tense features divulged anything. 

When her optics found him, she tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. 

_ Finally noticed, pretty boy? _

He sucked in a breath, a voice— _ her voice _ —filtering through his head as clear as day.

_ Telepathy? _

_ No _ , she said, eyes closing as she breathed a sigh,  _ I can only start conversations _ . 

“Oh, shit.” Nico’s curse had the rest of the group turning to behold the angel as she sat up, wincing as her hand fled to her shoulder. A hiss left her teeth as she pulled away from the back of the couch. 

V drew a hand up when Lady reached for a gun under the desk. Nero was hesitant in going for his sword as well. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” he said, carefully facing her as she leveled her gaze on him. There was a pause as they looked at one another and her eyes appeared to gloss over as she glanced away. 

“Thanks, snowball,” she whispered and his brow rose at the nickname. It was too endearing to be an insult, far from Griffon’s bratty titles. 

“Do I know you?”

She hummed, an uncomfortable pinch in her face as her feet shifted from the couch cushions to the floor. V noticed that she refused to lean back against anything as she inhaled. “Doesn’t look like it. I don’t blame you, though. You were just a kid.”

“What—”

“Before that,” she cut in, silence falling over the small audience. Even Griffon stayed quiet, food forgotten at his feet. “I’m not a threat unless provoked, so the big cat over there better stop staring at me like I’m their next meal.”

V glanced down to where Shadow stood at his feet, tail swishing back and forth as a growl slipped from their throat. 

“You know this jackass?” Nico piped up, jabbing a thumb towards Nero as he scoffed at her. “What, you his fairy godmother or somethin’?” 

The woman huffed at her joke. “Glorified babysitter. Or I was, but you seem to take care of him just fine without me.”

“Oh, you know  _ me _ ?” Nico asked with squinted eyes. “What’s my name, then?”

“Nico Goldstein.”

“Alright.” She nodded, a challenge in her eyes. “What do I do to make an honest livin’?”

“Lethal artisan.”

She chuckled, nodding to herself as she glanced at Nero. “Like her already.”

“Just who the hell are you?” he questioned, stalking closer before stopping a foot or two away. Intimidation tactic or so V supposed as he loomed over her. 

“I think you used to call me ‘pigeon’ or something when you were little...” She looked up at the ceiling in thought before shrugging, then immediately regretting it with a pained grunt. 

She breathed out her name, introduction weak. “I was tasked with looking out for you after you were born.”

“Woo,  _ shit _ !” Nico exclaimed, gaining the spotlight. “We got ourselves a guardian angel!”

“We prefer  _ divines _ , but I’ll take it.”

“Why the hell were you protecting me?” Nero made a face, confusion evident on his strong features. 

“It had something to do with paying a favor back to your grandfather at first, but it was mainly to make sure you weren't dangerous,” she said and they all got the feeling there was more to it than that. “I just followed orders. You’re a reckless little shit, you know that?” 

There seemed to be honest annoyance there as she glared up at the Sparda descendant, leaving Nico to laugh her ass off in the background. 

“If you  _ were _ his protector,” V began, earning her attention, “then why are you here now?”

She smiled ruefully at the inquiry, shaking her head with an airy sigh. “Broke some rules. That’s about all I wanna say right now.”

Nero hummed. “So, what? Heaven kicked you out?” 

“The assholes who run it, yeah.”

“So I take it a god has nothing to do with this?” V droned. “One didn’t cast you aside like the great Lucifer?”

“He’s the type to let things run its course,” she murmured. “If you’re asking if He disowned me, I wouldn’t say I’m that bad off...yet.”

“So He’s real, then?” Nico whispered, eyes wide. 

“I’m not sure if it follows a strict religion, but He is as real as any other person for me.”

“Have ya met Him?”

“...Once,” she mumbled. Everyone felt the need to not prod her for a remainder of time with the somber tone she emitted. 

“Well, she isn’t dangerous per se,” Nico went on, nudging Nero as she stepped up. “So, our place or the orphanage?”

He rolled his eyes, starting towards the front entrance to the building. “Kyrie should look her over.”

“Orphanage it is then!”

As the two colleagues made their way out, V stayed put as [Name] slowly rose to her feet. She tried to hide the discomfort in her features, casting an amused glance at Griffon as he scrutinized her from afar. 

“What? Am I too scary for you, Griffon?”

“Fact you know my name makes you a helluva lot creepier, I’ll say that,” he quipped, raising his head. 

“It seems you know all of us,” V said and she hummed. 

“Perhaps a bit more than I should,” she uttered softly, eyes melancholy as she stared at the ground under his feet. 

Shaking her head, she blew out a breath and started forward. “So, we’re taking the van, I guess?”

She barely made it two steps before her knees gave out. Griffon squawked, taking flight as Lady stood tense behind the desk. She hadn’t said a word, though, perhaps she didn’t need to. 

“You’re injured,” V stated, walking forward and offering a hand. “Where?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she chuckled, seemingly out of breath as she kneeled, one hand on the floor the other around her middle. His focus centered on her fingers as they curved around her ribs, reaching towards her slouched spine. There was no wounds as far as he could tell. A sprain, perhaps?

“I may be of some assistance, if you’ll allow me.” He kept his hand out to her, palm facing up in vulnerability. 

She paid it a glimpse and choked on an exhale, not looking at him once so ever as she accepted the help. He wasn’t the strongest of individuals, but he could support a lady long enough to get to the van. She looked to be doing her best to not put any weight against him, even when she fumbled and he was forced to wrap an arm around her soft waist. 

“My apologies,” he said as they made their way down the few steps to the street outside. “I wouldn’t touch you so brazenly if it weren’t needed.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t?” she crooned, poking fun. He let himself smirk before hiding his amusement. “Guess that’s probably best with your predicament.”

“My predicament?” 

“Why do you think your little buddies are so anxious around me?” She sighed as they reached the van, V parting from her to open the door. “If I were in my true form, one touch from me could sear them.”

“True form?” 

She flinched, this time in an act of fear. 

“You have a devil trigger of sorts? An angel trigger, I suppose?”

“Let’s pretend I never said that. Pain makes me clumsy.” Without any help, she climbed into the vehicle and seated herself on the faux leather couch. He trailed after her, Shadow and Griffon returning to ink as to not cramp the limited space. He felt they didn’t like having to do that, still suspicious of their plumed guest. 

With a whimper, [Name] lied on her side, her front facing him as she scooted to the edge of the couch. 

“We could help if you told us what ails you so,” he tried again. 

“Maybe when the memories aren’t so fresh,” she murmured, eyes already closing as Nico shut the door and started the car. He thought he saw a single tear dislodge itself from the corner of her eye as she switched to her other side, facing away from him. 

A minute later the Nero returned from making a phone call down the block to Kyrie. He took his usual as shotgun. 

“She pass out again?” he asked after glancing over his shoulder at the woman. One would think so with the way she curled in on herself. 

“If I had, your loud mouth would wake me,” she said in response, teasing. 

Nico laughed, slapping her hand against the steering wheel. “She’s a keeper, alright!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited for errors!

**When she awoke next, she realized quite quickly that she was no longer situated in the Devil May Cry van.** Nero must have moved in her sleep. 

_ So much for being a loudmouth.  _

The malleable bed beneath her stomach was comforting. She was grateful to be off her back as that was the source of all the pain. She could only guess V had discovered that, having always been a silent observer. 

Sighing into a scruffy pillow, her lips twitched at the sound of curious whispers around her. She had felt their staring upon waking, anything but fearful as she knew the difference between a threat and inquisitive kids. 

Sitting up had a few of them darting out of the room like deer at the faintest shift in the forest. The braver ones stood their ground, huddled in the corner of the room closest to the set of double doors that appeared to lead out into a wide hallway. 

_ Ah, the orphanage _ … She recalled this place. Nero had roamed these corridors in his youth, ergo so had she. There were many happy memories here for him and just as many sorrowful ones, too, she supposed. He’d been a lonely little tike. Back then, sometimes all she could do was wrap her wings around him and hold him close. He stopped seeing her in his toddler years, but he always managed to doze off in her arms, regardless. It was her responsibility to carry him back to bed those days. 

Humming at the recollection, she grinned at the children across the room, tilting her head harmlessly. 

“I don’t bite,” she called, voice honey-sweet. “Come here. Tell me your names.” 

Her gentle aura beckoned the majority of them, the paranoid few lingering behind as the others introduced themselves. One girl, no older than four at least, dared to scamper onto the bed. [Name] hid her aches to allow the little one to settle in her lap and she held back tears, reminded too much of old days. 

_ How precious _ , she couldn’t help but think, yearning for the days Nero had begged her to play. Her beloved little snowball. 

“Are you a bird?” she questioned, poking at her feathered waist. 

She chuckled, running a hand through her new companion’s hair as she nestled in her arms. 

“Partly,” she whispered. 

“But you don’t have wings!”

The words stung despite how oblivious they were. Because, yes, she no longer had her wings. Her stronger ones, anyway. 

“I’ve tucked them away for safekeeping.”

“I wanna see!”

“Me, too!”

As they all crowded around her bed she shushed them, shaking her head in amusement. “You have to be patient. I’ll show them once I feel a bit better, alright?”

“Promise?”

She held her hand out as they all fought to grab onto her pinky, giggling like tiny maniacs. 

“Promise,” she assured. 

They continued to assault her with questions, eager to know about her and her strangeness. She didn’t fit in, that much she knew with her plumed clothing.

Hovering in the doorway, a figure watched from the shadows and went unnoticed. He found her preoccupied when he had thought to find her in a deep slumber, or perhaps ready to answer a few of his inquiries. Alas, she was much too busy with the children’s curious nature to entertain his own. 

He felt Griffon free himself from his inked skin, perching on his shoulder to observe the scene as well. He chittered quietly, scratching at some loose feathers on his neck. 

“Typical,” he scoffed, tight beaked. 

“Go on,” V said, interested in what the demon had to say for once. 

“Just makes sense kids would like her. She’s got the easy-going vibe—able to draw in weak minds and what not.”

The poet was silent as he studied the divine woman, jaw shifting as his eyes lowered, thoughtful. 

Griffon huffed out a series of breaths in amusement, doing his best to keep quiet lest he find a cane hooking into his beak. 

“Captured your attention, though, didn’t she, Shakespeare?”

“She’s an intriguing subject,” he admitted, turning to start down the hall he’d come from. “I’d like to examine her in the time that she is here.”

This time he cachinnated his heart out, wings flapping at his master’s choice of words. He couldn’t hold back when he worded himself like that—it was too vague. 

“Oh,  _ examine her _ , huh? Where ya gonna start? From the top then work your way down—“

The cane didn’t hook over his beak but it did careen into it quite fiercely. Howling in pain, he fell from his perch and caught himself in midair before he hit the ground. 

“ _ Ow—shit _ ! Learn to take a joke, will ya?!”

V rolled his eyes, swinging his cane playfully as he strolled. 

“Perhaps when they aren’t in bad taste.”

Before Griffon could open his split beach again, his master halted in the middle of the corridor, keen on a pair of figures resting outside an opened window. 

Nero and Kyrie sat side by side on a bench that overlooked the small courtyard, shoulders skimming as the devil-hunter leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. 

The easedroppers came at a sensitive time or so it appeared. 

“I don’t know why she’s so familiar,” he said, unladening himself to his love as she listened earnestly, a dainty hand finding the smooth expanse of his back. “It felt like she knew me more than I did when she looked at me back at HQ. Like I was someone important.”

“You  _ are _ important, Nero,” Kyrie whispered, leaning forward so she could try to meet his distant gaze. Her hair fell over her shoulder as she did, a waterfall with a sunset finish. “You just don’t always see it.”

“Only important when I need to be. Hero that saves the world gets the title but only until the glory fades and it always does.”

“Mm, not for me,” she hummed, grinning as he turned to look at her with a cocked eyebrow. “I’ll always see you as my hero. No one could ever change that.”

He chuckled and V felt no need to linger any longer. It was a private moment between two linked hearts and not something to be studied or so he believed. There was a slight ache there to know more of that type of interaction but he would never push the boundaries of respect, especially when it came to his friends. It was new feeling, albeit not unwelcome, just bittersweet. 

Here, he could finally say he was protected, if not loved, in the way a stranger opens their home and their hearts to a weak man with nowhere to go. He doubted he could ever repay such a debt but he wouldn’t give up on trying. 

…

A week came and went with their winged guest staying holed up at the orphanage. While the hunters wished they could have monitored her and built upon what little they knew, they had too much work crowding them to do so. There were still demons leftover from the fall of Red Grave and there was still the matter of rebuilding the city. It was a slow process with the fear that surrounded the deathbed of hundreds, maybe even thousands. 

Because of that, Kyrie was the one to keep them up to date when they returned home to a hot meal and a comfortable atmosphere. She told them of the shenanigans the children had gotten up to with the divine being and how she adored to look after them while Kyrie was busy with other, conventional tasks. 

“She’s a great help,” she went on. “If the kids are distracted she always tries to see what she can do around the orphanage. I can tell it’s still hard for her to move around but she promises me she’s getting better.”

“Have the kids managed to rope her into showin’ off those purdy wings of hers?” Nico asked in the middle of stuffing her cheeks full of food. 

“Not yet,” the redhead giggled. “Though, I think they’re making headway. Could be any day now.”

Nico slammed a fist down on the table, nearly sending a utensil flying. “Not if I can help it! I gotta see those suckers before ‘em!”

Nero was unimpressed by her vigor, tired from a long day of labor. He did his best to focus on his fiancée instead. 

“Has she opened up on anything else?”

Kyrie sighed and he hated the melancholic look that passed over her eyes. 

“I’ve tried to approach her on certain subjects, but she doesn’t seem to want to talk about her past.”

“Give it time, they always end up spilling their hearts to you.” Nero smirked and she rolled her eyes playfully before the muffled joy melted away. 

“Sometimes, when I’m leaving late, I see her sitting up on the roof. I don’t think she’s sleeping some nights but when I asked she said that was normal. I hope she isn’t having nightmares…”

“Well, don’t worry yourself raw over it, okay?” Nero muttered, knowing her caring heart could be too much for her at times. “She’s taken care of herself so far.”

“I think she’ll open up to one of you boys.” She was confident in her assumption as she looked between her love and the poet who hadn’t said a word since they returned. “She always asks how you’re doing, especially you, V.”

At that, the poet’s eyes widened, leaving him to look up from his journal that laid open in his lap. He lacked the proper focus to read having been listening to Kyrie the entire time, but his full attention was snagged at his name.

“Me? Whatever for?”

She shook her head just as confused as him. “If I knew I’d tell you, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. We’ll take Saturday off, come see the kids and get some rest after working our asses off all week,” Nero decided. “Maybe she’ll be a bit more talkative while we’re there.”

“Don’t force her, alright?” Kyrie asked, only a bit stern. “She’s gone through something terrible. I just know it.”

“I’ll say. What the hell could get you kicked outta heaven?” Nico huffed, lips pursed. 

“Excessive pride,” V wondered aloud, calling to mind the tale of Lucifer, “but she doesn’t seem the type to challenge God.” 

No, he thought, that reminded him of himself, back when he was another man in a different time. 

“Didn’t she say heaven was ruled by someone else, though?” the artisan muttered, pointing with the prongs of her fork for emphasis. “Maybe it was him she had a spat with.”

“I believe it to have been plural.” V thought back to the small details he recalled that day. “A governing group, perhaps?”

“You mean like a council?” Nero huffed. “Why let a bunch of assholes rule when “God’s everywhere and in everything” or whatever?”

“Probably has enough on His plate already,” Nico commented, going for another portion of steaming, garlic mashed potatoes. “Unlike this hungry girl, pass me those rolls, sweetcheeks?”

Kyrie beamed as she did exactly that, happy to see all her hard work eaten and enjoyed. If there were leftovers she knew Nero would find them as a midnight snack, or they’d be shipped off to the orphanage for breakfast the next morning. 

As dinner finished up, V contemplated by the kitchen sink, washing and drying the dishes with slow movements. 

Griffon kept him company, sitting on the counter and preening his electric blue feathers. Whatever was picked off, Shadow would play with on the floor, later to be swept up by whoever had the chore that week.

Kyrie hummed a happy little tune as she came up beside the poet, dropping off the last few dishes. 

“Would you like some help?”

V snapped out of his racing thoughts and smiled at the kind woman. 

“You already do far too much for the likes of us. Allow me this small labor, won’t you?”

“Alright,” she sighed but she was still grinning as she searched a nearby cabinet pulling out what looked to be jerky and some other treat. 

“Ooh!” Griffon perked up, smelling the substance as he shook his feathers straight. Kyrie chuckled and tossed the treat out into the living room. He flew after it, a victorious cackle revealing he’d snatched it out of the air in record time. 

Shadow merely stood and rubbed against Kyrie’s side, eyes wide as they stared up at the woman’s hand. They didn’t have to beg as the food was easily given up. 

“You spoil them so,” V said, amusement in his tone. 

“They’re too cute not to,” she replied, scratching behind the panther’s ear. “I wish I had something for Nightmare, too, but I’m not sure what he likes.”

V deliberated for a moment and, then, an idea came to mind. 

“Did Nico not purchase something a day or two ago?”

The women looked away in recollection before chirping an agreement. “Oh, yes, she did! It was delivered today, actually. Why?”

V held back a smile as he set the back of his hand against the countertop. In the middle of his palm, Nightmare sprouted, swinging its arms at a slow pace as it stepped off its masters hand. 

While the familiar roamed, V asked for an item that left her giggling as she hurried to retrieve the gift.

When she returned, she gingerly sat the small portion of bubble wrap in front of the creature. Its lone eye studied the plastic for a moment before glancing back at V for assurance. He regarded it with a nod and the rock monster laid waste to the packaging protection seconds after, destroying one bubble at a time. 

Both of them smiled softly at the show before V returned to his chores. 

“Nightmare so loves to destroy. I can’t say I’m surprised that worked out in our favor.”

“At least I know what to do with all that bubble wrap when the new tools or whatever else arrives!” Kyrie rejoiced before turning as Nero called from another part of the house. 

“You need not worry, I’ll finish up here,” V assured earning a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you, V,” she said, one of her hands curling over his lithe shoulders to give her just enough boost (and enough weight to force him to lean down) to lay a grateful peck on his cheek. He chuckled at the affectionate display. 

As Kyrie departed, the familiars slowly found their way back to their master. Nightmare still had bubbles left to pop, but the others had eaten their treats and now found comfort in lying around the man. 

“What were you thinkin’ so hard about before?” Griffon asked, wings folded and legs tucked under his stomach as he perched on the top of a kitchen cabinet. 

“Nothing of consequence.”

“C’mon, I‘m curious, Shakespeare. We’re all ears.”

He paused in his cleaning ministrations to glance up at his avian companion. “Why would she concern herself over me?”

“Frosty’s dame?”

“I wasn’t referring to her.”

“ _ Ohh _ ,” he drew out, slowly nodding, “you mean miss fallen angel. Can’t say I know more than you do in that department, but who knows? Maybe she  _ fell _ for ya,  _ ha _ !”

He returned to the dishes. It was hopeless asking a bird for a proper input. 

“C’mon, that was a good one!” A moment of silence passed before he grumbled and sighed. “Listen, you won’t know if you don’t ask. Simple as that.”

“Then, I should aspire to speak with her.”

“Yeah, Saturday’s right ‘round the corner...” 

The look he gave the familiar had the demon shaking his head. 

“Oh, fuck that! No way am I flying across town tonight. We’ve been workin’ all day!”

“Exercise will do us some good,” he hummed, putting up the last set of plates. 

Turning to Nightmare, he smirked as it stood atop a mountain of crushed plastic, seeking some type of approval. 

“Splendid job, my friend.” 

It promptly returned to his palm after the praise before being bleeding back into his hair. 

Griffin groaned as he watched the big cat chase after the poet who started for the front door. It was too late for this shit and dinner hadn’t had enough time to even digest properly. 

“Fuckin’ romantics,” he lamented, flying after the duo. 

The walk to the orphanage was a minor one and of no consequence with the lack of demons on the island. The gate that overlooked the property was easy to get around with shape-shifting familiars and a set of wings. 

“What’s your plan, then, Shakespeare?”

“Who needs a plan for a simple chat?”

“Alright, what if she’s asleep?”

The sharp sound of a cane stabbing the earth echoed as V hesitated. He had heard Kyrie at dinner about the divine’s lack of sleep. It wasn’t smart of him to assume she was a night owl, snowy pennon’s or otherwise, but the second guessing didn’t have time to settle as a shadow shot across the cement path leading to the front doors of the building. It had both of his familiars tensing at the potential threat and him looking to the skies like a man in need of a shooting star. 

How funny that she was like one, falling from another world unknown and just as bright in the eye of the moon as she flew. She was a sight to behold, wings spanning far passed the length of her arms. They were strong, powerful things even from afar as they lifted her high. 

The moonlight reflected off each plume as she glided over the dark trip, beating a wild pattern as she lowered to the yard on his right. With her knees bent, the landing seemed a cinch. If not for the tightness in her posture as she straightened and tucked her avian limbs against her shoulders. Their size showed in the way the tips dragged at her heels, meeting each blade of grass they touched. 

A breeze billowed through her hair and fluttered the hem of her gown which was no doubt Kyrie’s handwork. It fit her figure quite nicely, drawing eyes to where they rather not be. 

“Hello again, stranger,” she spoke, a bittersweet tune to her voice. “Been awhile.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited for errors!

**“We’ve been occupied as of late,” V said.** He turned fully towards her and did his best to not let his astonishment show at her resplendent beauty. “I apologize for having not visited sooner.”

“It’s fine,” she chuckled, eyes darting towards the entrance to the orphanage as she brought a hand up to her shoulder. “Can’t really get lonely around here with the kids running about.”

“Until they’re asleep, that is,” he murmured, soft in his breach of privacy. 

She hummed but made no further comment as she began her trek around the building and towards the back. 

“They call us guardian angels for a reason,” she said as he shadowed her. “So why not keep an eye on the place?”

“Ever heard of sleep, sweetcheeks?” Griffon called from above, circling overhead. She laughed at the title, hair falling behind her ears as she looked up at the familiar. 

“Divinities don’t sleep.”

“What, like, at all?”

She shrugged.

“It’s a full-time gig. We don’t have time to rest.”

“But you do have limits, do you not?” V questioned, only steps behind her now with his long gait. “You must with the state we found you in.”

“If our wounds are life threatening we don’t really have a choice. Now that I’m fully healed, I have no use for it.”

“Are you healed? It doesn’t seem quite so,” he muttered, eyeing her back. Unfortunately, her wings hid any of the injuries she would’ve sustained from her rapid descent, just as her plumage body suit had.

“I am,” she said, sounding truthful as they entered the side gate leading into the courtyard where most of the children played during the day. “I’m just...getting used to these wings is all.”

That certainly compelled him. What with how graceful she’d soared moments prior, he would have never guessed she kept those pennons tucked away, unused. 

“Have you not flown before now?”

The tightness in her posture had returned and guilt began to rise, muddling with his need for answers. He had hoped after a week of rest, she’d be more comfortable—more open to exploring his curiosity. Perhaps, it was best to not meddle any further, lest he exacerbate recent ailments. 

“Why did you come here tonight?” She answered with her own inquiries, turning just before she reached the center of the courtyard. The moonlight set her hair ablaze, shimmering just as her feathers did. Yet, her eyes were brighter somehow, not in color but intensity. 

V suddenly felt rooted to the ground he stood upon. Pulling himself free from her fierce gaze, he watched as Griffon landed on a sconce within the cloisters surrounding the courtyard on all four sides. 

“I bet I can guess,” she continued, before he could string together a response. Her entire body turned to face him, form strong despite the hardships she’d face only days prior. 

“Enlighten me,” he asked, partly amused. The other portion of him grew apprehensive, picking up on the slightest sliver of hostility. He couldn’t say it wasn’t expected; he had been rather assertive with her. 

Shadow picked up on that bit of his emotions, curling around his front, snarl pulling at their dark lips. 

He saw the corners of the divine’s lips quirk, a glimpse given to the large cat before she allowed her poised position to bump down a few notches. She hadn’t meant to put those two on edge, or three with how Griffon scrutinized from the sidelines.

“I already mentioned I kept a close eye on Nero’s group, you included,” she began after the pregnant pause. “I’ve seen your kind before—seeking answers to fill that chasm inside of you, like all the knowledge in the world will finally settle whatever churns you up inside.”

Her stare sharpened, her voice grew weaker. 

“It won’t.”

Raising his chin, the skin between his brows pinched together. She felt her fingers flinch at her side before she swiveled her head to the right. 

“You’re a silent observer, V. That’s what makes you dangerous, not your kitten or the chatty beak over there.” 

She grinned as Griffon scoffed. 

“And I know you have that other one, the big fellow. They’re skilled weapons, but you’re the final blow, aren’t you?”

“It is a bit unnerving how you know so much, I must say,” he finally spoke, excavating his cane from the ground to twirl through his fingers. “One would think you’d focus on your ward instead.”

“Oh, I do,” she chuckled, hands moving to her hips. “That’s why I kept an eye on you and your familiars--Nico, too. Had to make sure you weren’t double-crossing the snowball.”

“I assume Kyrie as well?”

“That girl couldn’t hurt a fly,” she breathed, a pleasant smile on her face as she moved towards an opening into one of the halls of the cloisters. He could only stare as the wings melted into her clothing to better let her fit through the doors. The only indication they were still there were the feathers creeping down her calves, uncovered by the short trim of her dress. 

He blinked, heavily judging where his mind was going off to as of late. 

“She has a good soul and she’s the person Nero needed most when he was little.”

“Ain’t so little anymore, pidgy,” called Griffon from above. 

“Aw,” she crooned up at him, still sitting on the mounted sconce, “is that short for pigeon? I’m touched you liked the nickname.”

“Ain’t much of a match, but I’ll make do.”

“What would you prefer then?”

“Pigeons are just another word for doves,” V cut in, coming up on her left, earning the weight of her gaze once more. “But dove flows better off the tongue, don’t you think?”

“You’re the poetic type, you tell me,” she murmured softly, their shoulders a hair's width from brushing one another. 

He hummed, taking in her attention before apologizing. 

“I shouldn’t pry, I’m well aware. I’ve just never had the pleasure of knowing the consecrated. Only their opposites, unfortunately.”

“Like I said,” she chirped, grinning again, “you’re inquisitive, therefore you’re an inquisitor. Can’t really be helped.”

A hand fell over his shoulder, light but severe in his mind. A warmth spread where she touched him, and his acolytes shuddered nearby. 

“I’m not upset with you, though,” she told him, moving away after that, taking away her strange but not unwelcome touch. “Divinities are few and far between for a reason. We can’t afford to make mistakes.” 

Her tone changed to a more serious note. 

“That being said, I’ve made one too many already, and I don’t plan to return to the Heavens right now even if I _could_ , so there’s no reason I can’t answer your questions.”

She paused at the end of the hall, causing him who followed too as well, though this time at a slower pace. 

Her head lowered to hide her expression, arms crossing under her chest.

“Some things are just hard to talk about, I guess.”

“I understand,” he said quietly. “I’ll refrain from prying—“

She laughed and he swore church bells tolled nearby.

“So polite,” she hummed, diverted. “I’d forgotten that part…”

He paused, confused as to what she meant. 

She shook her head, beckoning him to keep on her heels as she moved further into the orphanage. 

They passed by the children’s rooms, where she peeked inside to make sure peace still reigned supreme. After that, he found himself led into a small bedroom on the second floor. It had likely been an office at some point in the past with the high windows and filled bookshelves lining the wall. 

She sat on the windowsill at the far back of the room, staring out into the night as her wings unfurled once more. Her right draped towards the floor while the left stretched over her lap, delicate fingers disappearing into the white plumes as her mind seemed to drift. 

“Need help preening, pidgy?” Cackled Griffon as he situated himself on the frame of the bed in the corner. “ _More_ than happy to help—“

The fateful squawk had her simpering as V’s cane clinked loudly against the floor. She didn’t have to look up to know he was glowering at the demon. 

“They’re parts of you, are they not?” she asked him, gesturing to the other side of the windowsill. He hesitated, but eventually joined her, leaning against the wall in lieu of sitting. 

“Sadly, yes.”

“Hey!” Griffon barked, affronted. 

“I can see why this side of you is better left as a bird—freedom represents wings as much as it does words.”

“I hope you don’t think too badly of me—he is of his own mind as of right now. I’d never degrade someone so...obscenely.”

“Maybe it’d be a good look on you,” she teased, earning a bemused smirk from him as she tugged a pristine feather loose. She blew it in his direction, surprised when his long fingers seized it out of the air quite easily. 

“Are all angels so coquettish, or is it just you?” he boldly phrased, twirling the plume between his long, slender fingers. 

She hummed, head tilting down and her eyelashes fluttering. 

“Can’t ruin that surprise, now can I?” 

He blew out a slow breath, middle finger roving up the soft barns of the feather in his possession. It nearly spanned the entire length of his hand. 

She cleared her throat and his eyebrow ticked out of curiosity, noticing her tense body language. 

“Is something wrong?”

“Don’t tell Nico just yet, but my feathers have some, uh… _usages_ once plucked. One of them is a summoning of sorts? And the other is that they're ridiculously sharp, so,” she whispered, looking a bit timid and refusing eye contact, “be careful.”

“How would one summon you, then?”

“You just have to want me there.” She shrugged, eyes meeting his. “As long as you're holding one of my feathers, I’ll always find you.”

“Eh, sounds like a trip to creep town if you ask me,” Griffon huffed while Shadow yawned, curling up on the ground by the poet’s feet. With the tense air having passed between her and V, they could rest easy. 

“They fade away after one use, though,” she continued, ignoring the bird. “So don’t use it carelessly.”

“Noted,” he said, pocketing the feather for if the need should ever arise. 

She hummed softly, focusing on her wing as she fixed crooked feathers here and there. He didn’t miss the sudden flash of pain on her face as she leaned a bit too far into her work. 

She caught his concerned gaze and sighed. 

“I promise I’m healed,” she swore, “it’s just...echoes. Phantoms. I still feel them, sometimes.”

He kept his voice low, grazing the fortitude she kept up. “May I ask what it is that happened?” 

The downward curl of her lips sent something through him, he just wasn’t sure what. 

“Most divinities…” she stopped, closing her eyes as she slowly leaned back against the wall. “Most of us have more than one pair.”

His eyes widened, taking in the massive wings at her sides and trying to imagine the weight of two more. 

“Wouldn’t the weight be too much?” he whispered, doing his best to suppress his awe. 

“I’m not human,” she reminded him. “Divinities are anything but delicate.”

“I have no doubt,” he said and smirked at her playful glare. “You couldn’t be, not with the depression you left behind in Red Grave.”

Her eyes widened and she laughed softly, apologizing. 

“It was a _long_ fall. I wish I could have slowed my descent a bit more, but these aren’t my strongest wings,” she sighed, petting them affectionately. 

“I can’t imagine the weight of four, never mind two of them,” he admitted, not too prideful to admit he was weak in the way of physicality. 

She blew out a breath, shaking her head in a saddened amusement. “It wasn’t four.”

Blindsided, he gazed at her with a newfound respect. 

“Six?” he breathed, utterly shocked but managing to keep his tone even. 

“Six,” she parroted, flashing a weak grin as she ran a hand over her chest and up onto its opposite shoulder. “It’s just so... _light_ now.”

Hopelessness filled her expression. He didn’t enjoy the abrupt sting it brought to his chest. 

“I can’t even begin to explain the absence, and I honestly don’t mean to be so depressing,” she chuckled, eyes reflecting in the moonlight as they glossed over. “It’s just something I have to adapt to.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he whispered, meaning every word. She thanked him, sniffing as quietly as she could muster. 

“Just goes to show how ruthless the Council can be,” she sighed. “I should’ve never crossed them.”

“If I may,” he started, carefully, “what exactly did you do to fall out of their favor?”

Her mouth opened before closing in hesitation, eyes shifting nervously over the wing in her lap. 

“I…” she whispered, raising her gaze to meet his, albeit it was a tortuously slow movement. 

As she went to speak again a small gasp escaped her as she turned away towards the window, peering out into the night. 

“What is it?” he asked, on guard at her sudden expression of terror. Shadow was on all fours in seconds, growling in the same direction as the divine. 

The abrupt, blaring drone of a trumpet reverberated outside, seeming to encase everything with its sound as the building shook. 

V felt something crawl up his spine as she looked at him, eyes haunted as her lips moved, the melody of her voice was drowned out but the word was clear as day. 

_Cherubim_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Nero had flown out of bed seconds before the house had begun to shake, his demonic senses on high alert.** He’d clanked his hands over his ears when the first note of the trumpet blared. The sound shook him to his core, aggravating the hell out of his devil trigger. He felt his skin flickering back and forth between the two sides of him. What kind of shit would he be dealing with now?   


“What is that?!” Kyrie yelled, barely heard over the one note tune. 

“I don’t know!” he shouted in return, looking up as Nico slammed their bedroom door open. 

“This is the shitiest air raid warning to date!” she shrieked, rats nest piled high—honestly it was a new record. 

“Fucking—“ he winced as the vibration began to grow, groaning at the irritation. “Stay here with her! I’m gonna grab V and go figure out what the hell is going on!”

“V ain’t here!”

“What the  _ fuck _ ? Where is he, then?!”

She shrugged, hair bouncing with her shoulders. 

“Saw ‘im heading down the street through the window an hour or so ago! Think he was headin’ in the direction of the orphanage!”

“Shit, [Name],” he muttered, scrambling to get his things together and run out the door, but not before pecking Kyrie’s lips and telling her to stay safe. 

“What about—?!” she started, eyes glistening with concern. 

“I’m heading there now! Don’t worry, everything’s gonna be fine!”

“Here!”

He turned, plucking the keys from midair as Nico threw them straight at his face. 

“Don’t scratch ‘er up too bad, ya hear?!”

“Keep her fucking safe or your ass is grass!” he farewelled, trudging out of the room and downstairs into the garage. 

Driving through the streets, he gritted his teeth as people stood out on their balconies and driveways trying to see what was going on like a bunch of morons. 

He peered up through the windshield, searching for the same answer until he pinpointed something hovering high above the city. 

“The hell…?”

If it was a devil he’d never seen anything like it, but with the way the wings were shaped and glinting in the moonlight he had a bad feeling of its connections. 

Coming to a screeching halt in front of the orphanage a few minutes later, he slammed the drivers door closed and ripped through the front gate, busting the locks. He’d fix it when everyone’s lives weren’t in mortal danger  _ again _ . 

“Well look who decided to join the party!” 

Ignoring the flying chicken, he marched into the courtyard where V and and his so-called “guardian angel” stood, watching the skies. The panther was out, too, eyes sharp as a tack. 

“What the fuck is going on?!” Nero yelled, eardrums beginning to ache as well as his body from his malfunctioning devil trigger. 

“It’s the Cherubim!” [Name] explained, frantic. “They're here for me!”

“What, so a week goes by and they’re calling you back to paradise?!”

She shook her head. 

“That’s part of why I’m here—I attacked them!”

“Well how the hell do we kill them, then?!” he asked.   


“How do you know I’m not the bad guy here?!” she laughed in shock. 

“Are you fucking  _ kidding _ me?! Until you give me a reason to kick your ass, I’ll worry about the big winged shit blasting a one-note jazz song over the town!”

She looked relieved. 

“There’s only one?!” 

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“Alright, seriously, what the  _ fuck _ did you do up there?!”

She shook her head, face twisting with worry. 

“You’re not going to be able to defeat it! If it blasts you with the trumpet, you’ll be pulverized!”

“If you’ve been looking out for me all my life then you know I’m not some puny weakling! Just tell me what it’s weaknesses are!”

“It’s me!” she screamed, getting heated. Her hands motioned to herself up and down. “But all I can do is sing them to sleep at this rate! My powers were taken away by the council and this thing won’t fall for the same trick twice!”

“Then find some new tricks! You keep it distracted, I’ll keep the punches coming!”

She shook her head and he went still as a pair of wings came to life out of nowhere, stretching nearly to the length of the Devil May Cry van. 

“I’m sorry, Nero! I can’t let you get hurt again!” 

“Hey—!” He was nearly knocked flat on his ass as she sprung into the air, the sheer breeze of one flap of her wings sending everyone spiraling for control. 

V gripped his cane tight, leaning into it as he fought to stay on his own two feet as Shadow circled around him for stability. Griffon was affected much the same, twirling through the air before landing on the grass. 

“She called those her weak ones?!” screeched the chicken, making no damn sense as per usual. 

Once the wind died down the men looked up, watching as she flew off into the night. The blaring trumpet went silent as a bone rattling roar took its place. 

“Shit!” screamed Nero, voice unbearably loud now that the droning was gone. He turned to run after the angel, glaring over his shoulder at the poet. “V stay and protect the orphanage!”

“Something tells me you’ll need a bit more assistance,” he called after him, the calmest all things considered. 

“Then call Lady and Trish!”

He sighed, watching the knight in shining armor rush to his spotlight once again. Hearing a door creak open, he glanced at the hall to the right as the children peeked out. Young, scared faces looked to him in this trying time. 

“Stay in bed,” he told them. “Everything will be fine momentarily.”

“Where’s the bird lady?” someone asked. 

“She’s off helping. She is a guardian angel, after all.”

“I knew it!”

“Hey, I’m the one who guessed it first!”

“Shut up, Todd!”

“Back to bed, tots!” Griffin shouted, corralling them back towards their assigned rooms on their left while Shadow was on the right. “Shows over!”

“Kitty’s here!”

A chorus of “yay”s were heard within. 

“Get inside—if you’re lucky Shakespeare might read ya a bedtime story.”

V rolled his eyes. The closest thing to children stories he had were poems and not all were kid friendly. Not that they’d ever understand the intricacies of them. 

“Stay safe, Nero,” he sighed, silently wishing the same for their newest addition. 

Her speed wasn’t what it used to be. With how light she was dodging was a slightly easier feat, but the lack of four wings beating a path through the sky put a major dent in her swiftness and Cherubs were known for their momentum. 

Singing hadn’t worked, but she’d already known it wouldn’t. Her volume wasn’t blessed without her powers and without her powers she couldn’t do anything else worthwhile. The best she could do was lead the beast away from the center of the city and towards the coast. 

That was proving to be a bit difficult. 

She let out a chest deep grunt as one of its wings smashed into her torso, driving her into the cement of a road below. She winced at the scrapes and bruises, shaking off the rubble as she stumbled onto her feet. Her strength was halved and that went for healing, too, it seemed. 

“Fucking council,” she seethed, glancing up and gasping as she dove, one flap of her wings barely saving her from a hellish curb stomp.

The road had already been decimated from her hitting it, now it was just clumps of pebbles and dirt. The buildings on either side of the cherub were caved in from the sheer size of it and she heard the screams of people flooding the streets and trying to make an escape. The shouts of civilians inside collapsed apartments had her gritting her teeth, leering up at the monster that He’d created to protect and serve. 

But now the council had made it fit for the Devil himself. 

It roared in response, taking another swipe, but she was already back in the air, soaring straight out towards the ocean. Its size made it slower on the ground but the numerous wings on its back made up for it in the sky, sending it careening for her in seconds. She managed to dive, avoiding its claws and feeling sea mist coat her body as she was forced back towards the coast. This thing wasn’t letting her leave the city. 

On the sand, she caught sight of a figure running before a flash enveloped it and a ball of neon blue was shooting towards her. 

She balked at Nero’s devil trigger as he passed her by, centimeters away before smashing into the Cherub on her tail and sending it into ocean waves. He propulsed up, using its body as a stepping stool before spreading his wings and flying back towards her. 

“Thought you could steal all the fun?” he growled, tone as demonic as his features. 

“It's after  _ me _ , please don’t get involved,” she begged, hovering in front of him as her wings beat in time with his own. The sight of them made her eyes water, feather pattern prominent in the midst of the vibrant colors. Did He have something to do with that? No, she remembered what He'd said as clear as day. It was just a coincidence.  


“I still have questions,” he ground out. “You’re not going anywhere unless I say so, pigeon!”

Her heart skipped a beat at the familiar nickname, tears stinging her eyes as she sucked in a hard breath.  It was instantly knocked out of her as the back of a monstrous hand slammed into her, ocean waves swallowing her as Nero’s yells were cut off by the sea’s thunderous waters.  She coughed, choking on saltwater as her throat and nose burned—everything  _ burned _ . The sores on her back could steam they were so hot. Clawing for the surface, she flapped her wings to help push her from dark pits threatening to consume her below.

As she breached the surface, gasping for air she was overcome by another wave as the Cherub hit the water for a second time, dragging her under. Before she could sink too deep, a set of razor sharp claws were wrapping around her shoulder and yanking her from the sea. Thrown back into midair, she flapped furiously to find her balance, choking on the saltwater that had slipped down her throat without consent. 

“Move it!” Nero bellowed, grabbing her forearm and pulling again before whipping her towards the shore as the Cherub broke the surface, angrily swiping for his luminous form.

The throw knocked her wings out of rhythm and she was sent tumbling across the beach, sand coating her as she rolled and settled into a crumpled heap.  Now she was choking on sand. The grainy texture stuck to the inside of her cheeks and she decided then and there asphyxiation by water was more her cup of tea. 

Groaning, she pushed herself into a kneel blinking the sand and salt from her eyes as the wind of heavy battle blew over her. The clashing echoed across the coast and mimicked a thunderstorm with its volume. Cries of the monster's holy weapon erupted from time to time, scaring the shit out of her. Thank God the kid was a better dodger than she was. 

“Need a hand?”

Opening her eyes, she squinted up at a woman—Lady, if she recalled correctly. Dante’s business partner. 

“Fucking Christ, it’s been a millennia since I’ve seen a Cherub,” another woman spoke up next to her, hair long and features stern. Trish glanced down at her, scowling. 

“You an archangel, then?”

“At least take me out to dinner before I answer that,” she groaned, taking Lady’s hand. 

“Oh, damn, a sense of humor?” Trish laughed. “That's new. Your types usually have sticks shoved up their asses.”

“How many have you even met?” the divine huffed, wiping at her face again before turning to look back at the battle scene. Nero seemed to be holding his own rather well. As long as the trumpet stayed out of play, he might have a chance of defeating this foe yet. 

_ God, he fights just like his father, maybe just a tad bit messier.  _

“Just one—different time, different place,” said the demon, reminding her now wasn’t the best time to reminisce. 

“Quit socializing. How do we take it down?” Lady asked, also assisting in getting the sand off the angel’s body. 

“Dante’s sword would help but the fucker took it with him to hell.”

“I can lead it away, but Nero’s not having any of it,” [Name] sighed. 

“Hear that, Lady? Two angels fighting to the death—that’s Devil May Cry work if I ever heard it.”

She could only roll her eyes at these stubborn blooded people as she shook her wings free of the added weight of water and wet sand. They were definitely friends of Dante, all right.

“Hey, watch it, pidge!”

She turned at Griffon’s voice before noticing the Cherub launching straight at her. Flexing her wings, she evaded the hulking body but lost her footing from the wind power behind the attack. Distantly, she hoped Lady and Trish had been able to avoid it as well. 

Colliding with someone at her back, the two were sent rolling through the sand and out of habit she closed her wings around herself and the stranger in order to refrain from breaking any bones. 

Ending up on her back yet again, she panted and unfurled her pennons, heart seizing at the sight of black hair in her peripheral. The weight on her chest was nothing compared to the one inside of it.  V grunted in her ear, hands sinking into the sand above her shoulders to lift himself off of her. He hesitated at their positioning, staring down at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place.  Sucking in a breath, she noticed her grip on his lower back and floundered, releasing him. 

“When did you get here?” she stammered, eyes wide and face hot to the touch. 

Griffon swooped by, eyes searching further down the beach where Nero was steadily pushing the Cherub back towards the sea. Lady and Trish had joined the fray with guns and who knew what else. Shadow sauntered up beside the poet, keeping an eye out as well. 

“Only a moment ago,” V answered, seemingly out of breath as well, he just pulled it off better than she did. “Kyrie and Nico took charge of the orphanage soon after you and Nero left, I thought I might be a bit more utilitarian on the front lines.”

“...You just wanted to see my fighting style,” she deadpanned and he hummed, glancing upwards at nothing in particular. 

“Guilty as charged, I’m afraid, but I wasn’t deceitful in my prior reasoning either.”

She laughed, wincing at the no doubt bruises littering her torso from so many beat downs. She was gonna be sore tomorrow. If she lived to see it. 

“ _ Fuckin’ shiiiit—!” _

They both froze as Nero flew over their heads and piled through the sand. The hit left him humanoid and choking on air.  Another roar sounded close by. 

“Nero!” she shrieked, scooting out from underneath V and scrambling for her ward’s prone body. 

“You weren’t kiddin’,” he wheezed as she wiped the sand from his face. “ _ Fuck _ , I hate devils but this cherub is a pain in the ass.”

“Watch it, pidgy! Second round's a-comin'!”

Looking up at the holy beast being momentarily held back by Dante’s partners, she gave one last concerned look at Nero. He waved her off, one eyed squinting open. 

“Keep him busy, I just need to catch my breath,” he promised. 

With a hard set mien, she glanced around and spotted his weapon not too far off. The Red Queen was nothing compared to her divinity powers but it would have to do. 

“I’m borrowing your blade for a bit,” she whispered and kissed his forehead. “Stay strong, snowball.”

“Watch it,” he muttered, pissy. “I’m gonna be a married man soon enough.”

She laughed bitterly and patted his cheek. 

“You’re way off bat. I don’t date kids I raised.”

“Makes sense,” he wheezed, turning onto his side as she hurried towards the sword. Testing its weight, she took notice of Trish and Lady’s warnings and vaulted into the air with a forceful flap of her wings. As she went she yelled at them to help the people stuck under the rumble from the crash prior. 

“I have a plan! Focus on helping the injured!”

V stood by as she soared upward and snapped his fingers, letting his hair fade to a pale ivory as Nightmare came crashing down on the Cherub, slowing it down somewhat and giving her a bit more distance. After getting thrown off, V bid the boulder beast to find whatever he could to toss at the creature when an opening came and ordered Griffon to do the same with his lightning before they flew out of reach. 

“Sure we shouldn’t just head back to the orphanage before Nero throws a fit?” asked the latter. 

They both glanced at the Sparda descendant who was gradually getting back to his feet. 

“He’s preoccupied and Nico and Kyrie have it under control. We’re needed here if this Cherub proves to be too powerful.”

“You’re the boss,” Griffon conceded, following after Nightmare as Shadow paced the sand, tail whipping it into a frenzy. If the battle wasn’t taking place so high in the air, he might’ve been able to utilize their cloud form and get in a few hits.  No matter, Nightmare was making use of the rocky cliffs not too far down the beach. He subtly reminded the familiar to not aim over the city. There were still civilians about and Dante’s partners didn’t need more people to aid on top of those already stuck under house rubble. 

The plan wasn’t full proof by any means, but it was something at least. Getting up close and personal with a Cherub wasn’t the greatest idea but she needed to damage its wings as much as she could and try to wear it down. She knew all the vital tendons in a wing personally, striking at what would be the Achilles heel of its pennons. They were tougher, harder to slice through. The weapon wasn’t strong enough to do much with one hit, but if she kept hacking away she’d manage to harm it a considerable amount. 

She hoped she would. She had to. 

An agitated cry left her throat as the trumpet sliced through her leg. The bell was honed apparently. 

Gritting her teeth, she clamped one hand over the gushing laceration and scarcely avoided another backhanded hit. Whatever was throwing these rocks—and she had a good idea what it was—was doing a fantastic job keeping the Cherub off her ass. 

With a deep inhalation, she went in for a few more strikes before starting her descent. The city was far below. She could make out every building on the island and aimed for the widest part of the coast, praying to God this would work. 

“ _ Shit— _ !”

Tears slid down her cheeks as the trumpet swiped at her back, clipping her left wing. She whipped her wings harder, glancing up towards her feet and aiming. Slinging the blade behind her, it diced through a handful of its multiple eyes and gave her a bit more breathing room to avoid its attack. 

“Just a bit further,” she told herself, wings beating their damndest. Dots formed on the sand below luckily not in the spot she was diving towards.  Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes widened at the trumpet speeding her way and crooked her wings, swiveling right. She felt it cleave a trail across a shoulder, but the pain didn’t come as the ground approached. 

With one final scream, she flipped onto her back and spread her wings wide, lifting into the Cherub’s face before she closed one. The change whipped her around its thick neck and over its back.  Before it could turn and make an attempt to grab her, the earth’s surface came knocking and so did a flash of lighting to top it off. 

She wasn’t sure if something hit her or her wings just gave out, but she impacted the sand at some point, close enough to the sea that it lapped over her and irritated her wounds. She was too exhausted to make a noise of discomfort, coughing on the waves as it attempted to drag her into the surf. She wouldn’t fight it. 

“I found her!” someone yelled, muffled. She tried to open her eyes but the saltwater burned and had her closing them even tighter. “C’mon, Pidgy, you can’t be drowning in the kiddy pool after all that epic shit!”

Something pulled at her shoulders, trying to drag her onto her back but she was far too heavy.  The ground rumbled soon after, the sand shifting beneath her. Something rough and solid formed under her and lifted her body from the sea’s grasp. She coughed, staring down at the blurry surf as it passed into dry sand and soon a pair of arms. She rolled into them, wings dead weight and folding beneath her at an uncomfortable angle.   


“You didn’t tell me you bled gold,” a velvety voice murmured into her ear as warmth encompassed her. 

“You...didn’t ask, pretty boy.” she whispered, his face melting into the night sky. 

_ Ivory hair into starlight _ , she thought, recalling a time of piece and love before she faded into darkness.  She let it go. 


End file.
